


Come On In

by TheReluctantShipper



Series: By Invitation Only [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Because Cas is a Vampire and Whatnot, Bottom Dean Winchester, Charlie Ships It, College Student Dean, Dead John Winchester and Mary Winchester, Depression, Hospitalization, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel, Sick Dean Winchester sort of, Top Castiel, Vampire Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-02-12 22:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12970212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheReluctantShipper/pseuds/TheReluctantShipper
Summary: “Did you know that you have a piece of material in front of your door that says, ‘come on in?’”





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is (obviously) a work of fanfiction. I claim no ownership over any of the characters, or the world of Supernatural, however grateful for them I may be, which is hella.
> 
> \- No posting schedule, because I am a garbage person comprised of garbage, and cannot commit to anything but my husband.
> 
> \- The "Major Character Death" warning is mostly mentions of major character death, no on-screen death.
> 
> \- And, listen, I know the trench is important, but... I mean, Cas in a waistcoat. Come on. *drools*
> 
> \- Inspired by that tumblr post. You know the one.

Dean turns the ignition off and leans back in the seat to just stare out his Baby’s windshield for a moment. He’s exhausted, and there’s no end in sight.

Well, there  _ is _ an end in sight, it’s just hard for Dean to see it. He’s a freshman at the University of Kansas, and though it feels like getting his Bachelor’s degree in Mechanical Engineering is going to take the rest of his life, he knows in his head that it’s just three and a half more years. He’s almost halfway through his first year of college.

It’s just… It would be great if his family was around to see him do it.

John and Mary Winchester died twenty-four days before Dean turned eighteen. A drunk driver hit them on their way home from a New Year’s Eve party. They were both stone cold sober, as they’d quit drinking together when Mary got pregnant with Dean and put her foot down about John’s alcoholism. There’s a bitter, poetic irony there that Dean tries not to look at too hard.

Sam wasn’t with them or anything, but he’s not  _ here. _ The only thing that John and Mary specified in their will was that, should their children be underage, they would go to live with the Winchesters’ long-time friend, Bobby Singer, in Sioux Falls. Which is great, because Dean knows that Sam isn’t missing out on any stability, or missing out on having a loving father figure. God knows Dean would do anything to make sure Sam can have as normal a childhood as humanly possible.

In the chaos that ensued after Dean got the call that his parents were dead and his world was forever changed, it took about a month to sort out custody. Which meant that Dean was already eighteen once the dust settled. Dean had already been accepted to KU, his mom had cried and framed the acceptance letter and everything. So as much as he wanted to go with Sam, Bobby insisted he stay here, go to school, try to keep his life on track.

Dean kept their three-bedroom house instead of moving into a dorm. The University doesn’t usually allow that, but there were extenuating circumstances (“My parents are dead and I wanna stay home,” is quite the trump card). The insurance money was just enough to make sure the house was paid for, to put a little bit away for taxes on it every year, and that’s it. Dean works part-time at a coffee shop down the street from the school to try to make ends meet, and don’t think he doesn’t notice that Bobby somehow got a hold of his checking account number and makes regular deposits. He’d bitch about it more, but God, books are expensive, and so is  _ eating. _

Dean heaves a sigh and grabs his backpack from the passenger seat. As much as he wants to sit here and wallow in how alone he is, he needs to get inside. He has another class at eight tomorrow morning, and he’s so tired he probably shouldn’t have driven home. He had to work to convince his friend Charlie that he even could.

He trudges up the stairs, scrubbing a hand down his face hard. In a few weeks, he turns nineteen, his parents will have been dead for over a year, and he’s clinging to his sanity by his fucking toenails. Merry Christmas and happy birthday to him.

He opens the door and drops his bag in the entryway. He shuts the door behind him, flips the lock, and turns back into his empty house. He sighs again as he grabs his bag back up and heads toward the living room. Class in the morning or not, he’s got more studying to do because he’s got a full schedule and, apparently, he doesn’t need to sleep.

It takes him a few moments to realize that something’s even wrong.

When he does, he drops his bookbag in shock and just  _ stares. _

He’s staring because the most painfully attractive human being he’s ever seen is standing casually in his living room, looking carefully at the  _ Twilight _ DVD, his head tilted as he examines it. His shoulders are broad and muscular under his white dress shirt, but the black waistcoat he’s wearing hugs him tightly, showing off a slim waist. His hair is dark and wild, probably a little too long, but dear  _ God _ is Dean okay with that. He wants to fist his fingers in it while he writhes beneath this man.

A strong, stubbly jaw, high cheekbones, and a straight nose top everything off. Yeah, the most striking person Dean has ever seen in his life is just... Standing in his living room, like it’s normal, or even okay.

The man looks up at him, pinning him with blue eyes that make Dean worry about his ability to draw in oxygen.

The man gestures with the DVD in his hands. “This is offensive, you know. We do not  _ sparkle.” _

“It’s my mom’s,” Dean says faintly.

The man hmphs, and Dean comes to his senses. “Wait, what? Who are you? What are you doing here? What do you want?” Dean knows he’s talking too fast, and that he’s acting like a girl, but his brain is all scrambled by the  _ really hot dude. _

The man smirks and tilts his head, his eyes still boring holes into Dean. “Did you know that you have a piece of material in front of your door that says, ‘come on in?’” When Dean just stares incredulously, the man continues. “It’s dangerous. You never know what might get in with an open invitation like that.”

“What?” Ha. Dean can  _ totally _ use words right now. Take that, really pretty dude.

“I think you should get rid of it,” the man insists.

“What the hell is happening here?” Dean asks.

The man sighs, as if put upon, which,  _ rude. _ “I’m a vampire. Your… Open invitation material allowed me to enter your home. I think you should dispose of it.”

An insistent, almost gentle pain wraps around Dean’s heart.  _ But it was my mom’s, _ he thinks. He doesn’t say it, because he’s not going to just share the most devastating thing that’s ever happened to him with the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him. That’s… That’s too many superlatives in one place, quite frankly.

Plus, he’s just discovered the dude is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, so that’s a no-go.

He scoffs. “A vampire?” The man nods. “A  _ vampire?” _ Dean asks again. “You’re… You really want me to believe you’re some sort of ‘creature of the night?’”

“You may believe what you wish. It will not change what I am.”

“All right, dude, what did you  _ take?” _ Now that he knows the dude is high out of his mind, he’s a little comforted. High people do weird shit all the time, this probably has very little to do with Dean personally.

The “vampire” is frowning. “I’ve taken nothing. It would be incredibly rude to take something without your permission after you invited me into your home. Although I did consider taking that dangerous piece of material.”

Dean laughs. “No, dude, I meant what are you  _ on?” _ When the guy continues to look confused, “What drug did you ingest to make you think you’re a vampire? So I know how to take care of you?” One isn’t friends with Ash as long as Dean has been without knowing how to care for someone who’s taken a little “something-something.”

The man smiles, and Dean’s heart only skips, like, four beats. “You think I’m under the influence of hallucinogens.” He sounds amused.

Dean smiles back. “Don’t get me wrong, you have one  _ hell _ of a grasp of the English language, but, I mean, yeah. You gotta be. You’re not a vampire, dude.”

The man looks even more amused. “And what, pray tell, can I do to prove to you that I am?”

Surprised, Dean’s eyebrows raise to his hairline. “Uh, nothing?”

“I could lift your car,” the man suggests nonchalantly. “Or you, I suppose, I am sure lifting you would suffice as proof. I cannot turn into a bat, unfortunately, but I do have fangs.” He sighs. “There are really fewer advantages than mainstream media would lead you to believe. If sparkling can even be seen as an advantage.” He glares at the DVD in distaste.

Dean shakes his head. “Dude, whatever. What’s your name?” He smirks. “Oh, sorry, unless that’s some sort of magical  _ thing _ you can’t tell me.”

“My name is Castiel.” He tilts his head. “Why would it matter if you knew my name?”

“Because it’s… Nope, whatever. Look, Casteel, you’ve been great-”

“Cas-tee-elle,” he enunciates.

_ “Cas,” _ Dean says finally, starting to get a little irate. “Cas, look, it’s been great getting to know you, really, it has, but I need you to leave. I have shit to do.”

“Oh, no. I won’t be leaving.” Cas frowns. “Or, if I do, I’ll be back.”

“For  _ what?” _

“... To bite you?” The frown is still prominent. “You’re… Not a quick study, are you?”

Dean’s temper snaps. “All right, buddy, fuck you.” He makes his way around the couch, intent on his goal. “You can get the hell out now, and please remember to go fuck yourse-”

When he grabs the other man, several things register in Dean’s mind that cannot be explained.

The first is that Cas is cold beneath his dress shirt, so much so that Dean can feel the chill through the thin fabric. The second is that Cas’ arm doesn’t move at  _ all _ where Dean is grabbing it. The skin doesn’t even compress beneath his fingers. It’s like gripping a statue.

The third is that Cas smells really,  _ really _ good, and Dean is going to have a long, serious talk with himself later about what is and is not important when a crazy man has broken into your home and insulted you.

Dean yanks on Cas’ arm, and only succeeds in hurting himself a little.  _ What? _

“Are you quite done?” Cas sounds irritated, too. Which is hilarious, because the last time Dean checked,  _ his _ house is the one that got broken into.

“Not until you leave, I’m not,” he grunts, shifting closer so he can try harder to push the man out the door.

Before he gets much further, however, he’s wrapped in arms made of cold steel and crushed to Cas’ chest. He feels the other man bury his nose in Dean’s neck and  _ inhale. _

He struggles to get away, although it’s almost laughably futile. “What the fuck, man?!” He does  _ not _ squeak, thank you very goddamn much.

Cas’ head comes back up and he looks Dean in the eye. Dean realizes how close they are to one another, so close that he can count the little crinkles in Cas’ face as the man frowns at him.

“Why do you smell like that?” he asks.

Dean scoffs, bravado filling in where real fear has started to make him go numb. “Rude.”

“Why do you smell malnourished?”

“Hey, man, give me a break, I’m a college student.”

Cas tilts his head. “What does your level of education have to do with your scent?”

“Cas,” Dean says slowly. “Do you think you could, uh, put me down?”

Cas does so, but keeps an iron grip on Dean’s arm. Iron grip as in Dean thinks he might have a bruise there later. He suppresses a shiver at the thought.

“What is your name?” Cas demands.

“I… Wait, why did you break into my house if you don’t know my name?”

“I told you, your door-material invited me in.”

“Jesus fuck, it’s a  _ welcome mat, _ dude. Have you seriously never heard of one?”

Castiel frowns. “Why… Why would you do that?”

“To… Welcome… People?”  _ Where the hell did this guy come from? _

Cas shakes his head. “That’s extremely dangerous. You’re lucky I’m the first one who’s seen it.”

“What? Why?” Dean shakes his head. “Wait, don’t answer that, because this is  _ crazy. _ Just get out of my house, okay?”

Another head tilt. “Tell me why you smell malnourished. And tell me your name.”

“No.”

A growl bursts from Cas’ chest, startling the ever-loving  _ hell _ out of Dean. He tries to jerk away again, and gets about the same result. “Uh…”

“Tell. Me. Your. Name.”

Lucky (unlucky?) for Dean, his mouth moves faster than his brain. “Uh, yeah, no, I don’t tell  _ crazy people who think they’re vampires my name.” _

A dangerous glint enters those  _ ridiculously _ blue eyes. “Would you still like me to prove it?”

Dean grins. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins, making him reckless. “Go for it, sweetheart.”

Cas yanks Dean toward himself again, and Dean barely has time to blink before Cas is sniffing insistently at his neck, rearing back a bit, then sinking his now weirdly long incisors into the vein there. There’s a flash of pain, but only for a moment, and then there’s just  _ heat. _

Dean gasps and grips Cas’ shirt, trying to ground himself and keep himself from getting a massive erection. Heat is spiralling from where Cas’ mouth is attached to him, drawing a hot line straight down to his dick, which is starting to ignore his direct order to stay soft. There’s a sort of gentle draining sensation, too, but he’s okay with it.

It lasts less than a minute before Cas is pulling away, and Dean’s too dizzy to even be weirded out when he feels the other man’s tongue on his neck, gently, almost reverently.

“Uh… Woah,” Dean says, and no, his voice is  _ not _ all breathy like a girl’s.

“Do you believe me?” Cas sounds smug.

“I, uh… Yeah, prob’ly.”

Cas nuzzles his temple, and Dean finds himself leaning into it. “Will you tell me your name now?” he whispers, his voice raspy in Dean’s ear.

“What, you bite a guy and expect him to just put out?” It occurs to Dean that, to a vampire (which he is rapidly becoming a believer in), he’s probably done exactly that.

Cas’ chuckle makes him thinks he’s right. “You’re terribly shy about sharing your name.”

Dean leans back and hits the man holding him (and he’s gonna fix that soon, honest, he’s gonna) with a glare. “‘M not  _ shy, _ Cas, ‘m  _ cautious.” _

“I’ve just partaken of your blood,” Cas says bluntly. “What else do you have to protect?”

Something about the question makes Dean’s chest tight, so he tries to ignore that and smirk. “My virtue?”

Cas just tilts his head and stares, and since Dean isn’t into the whole, “he can see into my soul” thing, he starts to wriggle. “Put me down.” He’s surprised when Cas does so immediately, and he stumbles a little. He gives the vampire  _ (holy shit holy shit he’s a vampire) _ with another glare. “Thanks,” he says icily.

“Why are you malnourished?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Like a dog with a bone, eh, Cas?”

He gets another frown for his efforts. “I am not a canine, nor do I have a bone.”

“It’s a phrase, dummy.”

Cas seems to consider arguing his point again, but then goes back to his original question. “Please tell me your name?”

“Why do you want to know?”

_ That _ seems to finally trip him up a little bit. “I… Would just like to know. Very much.”

“Why?”

His blue eyes soften. “Because I have a suspicion that you do not have anyone to… Look after you. It worries me.”

Dean frowns. “Why?” This time it’s not to be an asshole, it’s a sincere question.

“I do not have a good answer for you, I’m sorry.” Cas really does seem to be contrite.

The thing is, Dean  _ doesn’t _ have anyone to look after him. Bobby does his best, but he’s in Sioux Falls and Dean’s in Kansas. Not to mention the moody, heartbroken teenager that Bobby’s inherited. There’s no reason Bobby  _ should _ have time to check in on Dean more frequently than a couple of times a week, and Dean would prefer the older man look after Sam instead.

Sam, though Dean loves him to the ends of the earth and back, feels abandoned by his big brother. Their conversations are stilted and strange now, and Dean feels like he can  _ feel _ the cold bitterness coming through the phone. He doesn’t know how to say to Sam that going to college is the last thing Dean can do to make their parents proud. He doesn’t know how to say that he’s just as lost as Sam is without them. He doesn’t know how to say that he doesn’t have a playbook for this, there’s no walkthrough for losing your entire family in the space of a few weeks and living in the ghost of the home that you lived in with them.

Charlie, Ash, and Benny try as hard as they can, but they all have lives of their own. It’s been almost a year, anyway, and Dean should be over it. He should be able to put his big boy pants on and  _ fucking deal with it already. _

So… Yeah. Cas is right, no one’s looking out for Dean but Dean.

“Dean,” he says softly. “My name is Dean.”

“Dean,” Cas repeats, low and respectful, like he’s savoring it. “A fitting name.”

Dean feels his face heat up, and he just  _ knows _ the tops of his ears are turning red. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you gonna leave now?”

Cas seems to consider for a moment, and Dean genuinely doesn’t know what he wants the answer to be.

“For now,” Cas says finally. “But I will be back, Dean.” With that, he turns and walks back down the hall. Dean is left staring at the place where Cas was, listening as the door is opened and shut.

Dean doesn’t get much studying done that night.

* * *

The next morning, Dean leaves the house to find that the welcome mat his mom put out is gone.


	2. Chapter Two

The next night, Dean gets home late again. He had a shift at the coffee shop this morning, followed by two classes and a lab that has left his brain fuzzy and his body tired to the bone. He wants to go inside and pass out, possibly on the floor in the front hall. He just hopes he can get the door closed behind him before he goes down.

He manages to make it to the kitchen before he drops his bag, although it’s from shock rather than the anticipated exhaustion.

“Cas?”

The vampire looks the same as he did last night, which means he looks tasty as hell. He’s currently looking through the kitchen cabinets, the frown  _ (it is not adorable, he’s a vampire, get it together, Winchester) _ back on his face.

He turns and pins Dean with those blue eyes again. “Where is your food?”

“Excuse me?”

“Where is your food?”

Dean blinks. “What are you doing back here?”

“I told you I would be back.”

“Yeah, to  _ bite me, _ which you  _ already did.” _

Cas tilts his head. “Did you think I was done with you?” Cas’ eyes scan him from head to toe. “You are worthy of much more than one bite, Dean.”

Dean feels himself blush a little bit under Cas’ blatant appraisal. When he’s had time today, and when he’s allowed himself to do so, he  _ did _ kind of think that the one bite in his living room was all he was gonna get  _ (gonna get? really? jonesing for more, are you?). _ There’s not even really a scar, just a couple of silvery dots on his neck, so small and subtle he had to turn the flashlight on his cell phone on just to see them. He keeps the fact that he kind of loves them to himself, because that’s… Like, extra strength crazy.

“I guess I just didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

“Where is your food?”

“Jesus, one-track mind, much?” Dean picks his bag up and deposits it on one of the kitchen chairs. He leans against the table and rubs his eyes hard, trying to keep his thoughts from scattering. “What do you mean, where’s my food?”

“The food that you eat. Where do you store it?”

Dean looks up at the vampire, brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s in the cabinets or the fridge, Cas. You had to see it.”

Cas looks back into the cabinet with ill-concealed horror. “Surely you have more than what’s kept here?”

“Not really, dude. College student. I pretty much live off of noodles and coffee.”

Cas is frowning again. “That’s why you’re malnourished.”

“I mean… Probably, yeah.”

“Why do you not buy more food?”

Dean chuckles humorlessly. “There’s this thing called ‘debt,’ and another thing called ‘I’m in a hell of a lot of it.’”

“Why are you in debt?”

“Because I’m in college.”

“You have a job, though, correct?”

Dean hauls himself up to sit on the table because his feet hurt from his shift this morning, he has another shift tomorrow morning, and he’s too goddamn tired to be standing around talking to a vampire about his nutritional needs. “Yeah, but it’s just part-time, and there’s no way it’s gonna cover books  _ and _ tuition  _ and _ gas  _ and _ food.”

Cas is still frowning. “How do you eat, then?”

Dean shrugs. “My uncle Bobby sends me money, sometimes. And I got some scholarships. But, I mean, mostly, it’s just… Noodles. And coffee. Shitty, shitty coffee.”

Cas radiates disapproval, but it’s not like  _ he’s _ offering to feed Dean, so he just rolls his eyes and runs a hand down his face. “What do you want me to say, man? I’m doin’ the best I can.”

Cas frowns harder and steps around the island in the middle of the kitchen toward the front hall. “I shall return, soon, and I will rectify this situation for you.”

“What?” Dean, again, is too tired for this nonsense. While he’s checking out the way Cas moves in that goddamn waistcoat, however, his brain starts firing again. “Hey, wait!” He hops off the table to hurry after the vampire.

He’s stopped in the front hallway, turned back to look at Dean. “Yes?”

Dean comes to stand in front of the vampire, probably too close for it to be acceptable, but he’s tired and it’s late and they’re alone, so  _ fuck it. _ He glares at Cas. “Where’s my doormat?”

Another frown  _ (it is not cute stop that right now Jesus Christ). _ “Dean, it’s dangerous. I do not think you should have it.”

As aforementioned, Dean’s  _ tired. _ He’s tired from his job, and his classes, and his  _ life. _ He’s tired of being alone, of living in this stupid house he can’t seem to let go of, but won’t let him forget what he’s lost.

So he excuses himself for the way his eyes tear up. “But it… It was my mom’s.”

Cas tilts his head. “Was?”

Dean swallows hard and dashes the tears from his eyes. “She, uh…” Another thick swallow when he hears how shaky his voice is. “She died,” he whispers.

Cas’ face softens, and he steps forward to wrap his arms around Dean’s waist and pull him close. “Oh, oh,  _ Dean. _ I’m so sorry.”

Dean doesn’t think too hard about the way it feels natural to wind his arms around Cas’ neck and lean on the other man. “S’okay, not your fault.”

Cas’ mouth is pressed to his temple. “Is that why you live here alone?”

Dean nods into the shoulder he’s got his face buried in. “Yeah. She and my… My dad. A year ago. Almost. On New Year’s Eve.” Cas holds him tighter, and Dean again tries not to think about how he’s letting a vampire cuddle him because he’s still sad about his parents’ death. Because if he thinks too hard about it, he’ll have to put a stop to it, because it’s  _ crazy. _ Quite frankly, Dean kind of never wants this to end.

“I will bring it back,” Cas murmurs. “I would prefer you not display it, however.”

Dean sniffles and comes up to look Cas in the eye. It really brings home, again, how close they are to one another. “Yeah, yeah, the whole, ‘another vampire might come in and bite you’ thing.”

“This is serious, Dean,” Cas scolds gently. “I want to make sure that you are safe.”

It’s Dean’s turn to frown. “Okay, but… Like,  _ why?” _

“I already told you, I do not know why I want to… Protect you, but I do. I will return your… ‘Doormat,’ but I would prefer you to keep it put away. Please do not display it.” He sighs deeply, and Dean feels it expand his ribcage against Dean’s own. “I have to go now, but I will return, and I will fix both of these problems.” He presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “Sleep well, Dean.”

He disentangles himself gently but quickly, shoots Dean another searching look, then turns and walks out the door. He makes sure to lock the doorknob, too, so it locks as he closes it behind him.

Dean stays standing there for several minutes, frowning at the door.

“What the hell?”

* * *

The day after that, Dean has classes after his shift, late into the night.

He’s doing all right in school, solid B’s across the board. He knows he’s not as smart as Sammy is, but he’s holding his own. He takes a metric fuckton of notes and tries to keep up as much as he can. He’s not a genius, but he thinks he can be an engineer. Someday. Maybe.

On his drive home, he finally allows his mind to turn to what he might find when he gets there. Is Cas gonna be there? Are they gonna pseudo-cuddle again? Does Cas think he’s some sort of desperate cuddle slut? Does Cas even know what the term “cuddle slut” means? Did Cas bring back his doormat?

Dean’s a mess.

There are lights on when he pulls into the driveway, and he wonders how he missed those two nights ago. He chalks it up to exhaustion (he’s doing that a lot lately), grabs his bag, locks the car, and trudges into the house.

At the door, he’s hit with a wave of a  _ delicious _ scent. He breathes in deep as he shuts the door. He follows his nose to the kitchen, where he again drops his bag on the table as he sees Cas standing in front of the stove.

“‘Honey, I’m home,’” he quips, coming around to lean against the island.

Cas doesn’t jump, but turns to look at Dean, his head tilted. “Pardon me?”

“It’s a… You know what? Nevermind. Why are you here again, Cas?”

Cas looks back down at the stove where there are two pots bubbling with whatever smells so amazing. “This is spaghetti. You will have to forgive me, it has been a long time since I cooked for a human.” He chuckles a little. “Since, well, since I myself was human.”

The words make Dean’s head spin a little, so he ignores them. “So, what? You just gonna break in here anytime you feel like it?”

Cas turns to look at him seriously again. “You  _ do _ have the power here, Dean. You may rescind your invitation, if you prefer I not be here.”

And, here’s the thing. Dean knows this is crazy and stupid. This guy’s been breaking into his house for three days in a row now. He’s a vampire, and Dean doesn’t know a whole lot about them yet (he’s been doing homework, cut him a break), but he knows that they’re probably dangerous. This is  _ crazy _ and  _ stupid. _

It’s just that… Well, Dean’s  _ alone. _ Oh, sure, he’s got his friends, but Ash is always off with his hacking friends (by which he means that he’s always holed up in his apartment), so Dean rarely sees him. Benny got accepted into culinary school almost the moment they graduated high school. Between that and his girlfriend, Andrea, his time is all taken up. And Charlie, well, Charlie got recruited at a top tech company, and she’s busy finding a way to use it to dominate the world someday.

His friends have  _ lives, _ and  _ jobs, _ and they don’t want to hang out with the sad sack that Dean’s become since his parents died. Dean doesn’t resent it, he knows that the depressive episodes he goes through are hard to deal with. It’s impossible to know what to say when one of them talks about their family and he has nothing to add. He doesn’t hold the distance they’ve created against them whatsoever.

It does make his whole life kinda lonely, though.

“No, no, it’s, uh… It’s okay.” Dean rubs the back of his neck. “You can stay, Cas.”

Cas smiles, and Dean’s brain goes a little woozy at the sight.  “Dinner will be ready very soon,” he says. “You should wash up.”

Dean thinks about making fun of Cas’ word choice (who says “wash up” anymore? Jesus), but the sight of his wide, genuine smile still has his mind a little soupy, so he just nods and follows orders.

* * *

When Dean takes his first bite of the spaghetti, he gives a moan that’s probably one of the most carnal noises he’s ever made in his  _ life. _ “Jesus  _ Christ, _ Cas.”

The vampire, who isn’t eating, but is sitting across the table from Dean, looks anxious. “Is it acceptable?”

“Accept-  _ Cas. _ This is  _ amazing.” _ Dean blushes and looks down at his plate. “Uh… Thank you.”

Cas beams. “You’re welcome, Dean.”

A silence descends over them. It takes Dean a minute or two of shoving food into his mouth to realize that Cas is just sitting across from him, staring.  _ Awkward. _

He swallows his mouthful and hesitantly meets Cas’ eyes. “Uh, so… Tell me about yourself?”

Cas’ eyebrows go up. “What would you like to know?”

“I dunno, man, anything. Sittin’ here in the quiet is weird.”

“Why is it considered ‘weird?’”

_ He just used air quotes. What even is this. _ “I dunno! Just… Tell me something. Anything. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Cas nods. “Oh, yes. Hundreds.”

Dean blinks.  _ “Hundreds?” _

“Hundreds of my night brethren, of course.”

Dean exaggerates his nod. “Oh, sure, yeah, of course.”  _ Jesus Christ. _ “So, there are hundreds of vampires running around Kansas?”

“Oh, no, there are just a few in this area.”

“Where are the rest of them?”

“Everywhere.”

Dean blinks. “Well, that sounds fucking ominous.”

Castiel shrugs. “It wasn’t meant to. We pose no real threat to humans.”

Dean stares again, spaghetti hanging forgotten on his fork. “I mean… Except for the whole, ‘I vant to suck your blood’ thing.”

The vampire scowls, and Dean laughs a little. “Those stories are offensive. Bram Stoker was a nice man, but he had… An overactive imagination. Once he heard about the Carpathians, he was captivated, and dove immediately into the lore. What he found there was mostly frivolous, and he ran with it.” A delicate pause. “He was also quite the drinker at dinner parties. Disgraceful.”

Dean just stares for a while, because  _ what the hell. _ “You… Knew him?”

“No. I knew Ármin Vámbéry, a writer who travelled to the Carpathians for inspiration.  _ He _ was a gentle soul, and was delighted to find that vampires are real. When we spoke to him about secrecy, he respected the idea completely. I gather that when he returned home, the stories he told of our mountains were overheard by Stoker, who ran with the idea.” Cas sighs. “It made our lives… Infinitely more complicated. Since then, too, there has been a lot of misinformation spread.”

Dean leans forward. “Okay, so how much of it did they get right?”

“Very little. We  _ do _ need to avoid sunlight, but we will not  _ burst into flames _ when we misstep, for God’s sake. It is intensely uncomfortable, but no more than a severe sunburn for a human. It fades within hours. We do, of course, sustain ourselves on human blood, but we do not possess the powers of mind control, nor can we turn into bats. Our saliva  _ does _ possess a magic that heals the wounds left by our fangs, but the process to turn a human into a vampire requires consent, it cannot be done by force-feeding a human our own blood.” He frowns. “I have no ability to turn into anything whatsoever.”

“So you… Chose to become like you are?”

“I did.”

Dean tries not to ask, he really does. It lasts a few moments. “Why?”

Cas stiffens a little, and his eyes slide away. “That is... A rather personal question, Dean.”

Dean feels his face heat up in a blush. “Sorry.”

“It’s quite all right. You did not know.”

Dean stares down at his plate, self-consciousness and guilt swirling in his gut as they sit in awkward silence. Cas has been… Like, Cas has been weird and stalkery, but he’s also been  _ nice, _ and he made Dean dinner, and he gave Dean a hug and comforted him when he was sad because his life is low-key in the toilet. Cas has been kinda great, if you don’t take into account that he regularly breaks into Dean’s house, and now Dean’s gone and crossed some sort of vampiric dinner manners line, and Cas is gonna leave and never come back. It’s only been a few days, but Dean’s kinda gotten used to having someone at home, and-

His swirling thoughts are interrupted by Cas’ deep voice.

“Tell me about yourself, Dean.” The words are stiff, like Cas isn’t used to saying them out loud.

Dean blinks and looks up from his food to stare at the man across the table from him. “Huh?”

“Tell me about yourself?” Now it sounds like a question.

“Uh… What do you want to know?”

Cas smiles. “Anything.”

“Uh, I’m an Aquarius, I like long walks on the beach and frisky people?” Cas just raises an imperious eyebrow, so Dean continues more genuinely. “Uh, I’m eighteen, almost nineteen. I’m going to school at KU for mechanical engineering. I work at a coffee shop down the street from school. My parents are dead. I have a little brother, Sammy, he’s in Sioux Falls with our Uncle Bobby. I call him about once a week.” Dean thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “That’s about it.”

“Is it?”

Another blush.  _ Damn. _ “Uh… Yeah, pretty much.”

Cas looks a bit amused. “I do not know if anyone has ever told me less about themselves in as many words as you just utilized.”

“What are you talking about?”

Cas leans forward. “Why do you want to be a mechanical engineer?”

Dean shrugs. “Dunno. Just seemed to make the most sense.”

“Why?”

Dean ends up spilling a lot more information than he intended. He tells Castiel about fixing cars with his dad, about fixing up the Impala. Dad always promised him that he’d get to keep her when he turned eighteen. He never got the chance to hand the keys over. Dean just… Found them on top of his parents’ dresser, three days after the funeral. He had to drive his mom’s sedan to take Sammy and himself to the cemetery.

That leads him to talking about when his parents died, about how he walked around in a fog for weeks after, then had to leave his algebra class to cry his way home. He barely made it to the driveway safely.

He talks about how much he misses Sam. How he hopes that Sam really is experiencing “displaced anger,” like Bobby says he is, and that Sam’s not  _ actually _ angry at him for staying behind.

He tells Cas that school is the only thing he can do now to feel close to his mom. He talks to the vampire about how much he misses her, the way she sang while she cooked, the pies she cooked, the unconditional love and support she offered.

When he finally stops talking, he realizes that hours have passed. He blushes when he thinks back and it hits him that Cas hasn’t said a word the entire time. He’s just hummed in assent and nodded encouragingly when Dean’s gotten too emotional to speak.

_ Well. That’s humiliating. _

“Uh… Wow. Sorry.”

Cas tilts his head  _ (not cute not cute not cute). _ “Whatever for?”

_ Jesus, the way this guy talks. _ “Uh, ramblin’, I guess?” He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just, uh. I guess I haven’t talked to anyone who doesn’t know everything already.”

Something flashes in Cas’ eyes, too quick for Dean to catch. “Do you have a lot of people to speak to about this?”

“Ah, man, no one wants to hear me bitch and moan about my parents dying.”

Cas frowns. “Dean, you went through something traumatic and horrifying. Do not make light of your suffering. Take it from someone who has been alive for a significant amount of time. Processing your emotions, be they pleasant or not, is pertinent to your health.”

Dean can feel that he’s blushing up a storm. “No, dude, it’s all right. I don’t need to… ‘Talk about my feelings,’ or whatever.”

“What makes you different, or better equipped, than every other human on the planet?” Cas asks archly.

“Well, _Jesus,_ I’m not sayin’ I’m _better_ _equipped_ than anyone else, I’m just sayin’ that I don’t need a damn shrink.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can deal with this shit on my own.”

“Can you, now? Why is that?”

“Because I’m a  _ man!” _ Dean finally snaps. “And men don’t need to ‘talk it out,’ and I don’t need to ‘tell someone about my mother,’ and I don’t need to-”

_ “Dean,” _ Cas’ voice is severe, like disappointed thunder rolling across the kitchen. “Enough.”

Dean sulks and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“What I mean is that you mustn’t make light of your pain.” Cas reaches across the table to cover Dean’s hand with his and gentles his voice. “What you went through is important, what you’re feeling is important, and  _ you _ are important.”

Dean doesn’t remember when, exactly, tears started to well in his eyes, or when his throat tightened around his ability to speak. He takes in a hard-won, shuddering breath. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Cas.”

“So will you try to find someone to talk to about what you’re going through?”

Dean feels his brow furrow, even as the first scalding tear rolls down his cheek. “You don’t… I mean, you don’t want me to talk to you?”

Cas’ smile is brilliant in its joy, and it makes something deep in Dean shiver and warm. “Of course, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I don't actually know anything about Bram Stoker, Ármin Vámbéry, the Carpathian mountains, actual vampires, or how to spell the word "cemetery" right on the first try. So... There's that.  
> \- What? Dean is emotionally stunted and Cas teaches him to embrace his feelings? Ah, the trope is strong with this one.  
> \- Actually, the mental health angle kind of caught me by surprise with this one. Look at me go.


	3. Chapter Three

The next day is Saturday, and that means that Dean finally gets a break. All he had to do today is check in online for one of his remote classes and work a half-day at the coffee shop. Oh, he still has to study like no one’s business, he  _ always _ does, but today he can do it in sweats, at home, in the  _ daytime, _ instead of on his fifteen-minute breaks at work. One can only absorb so much information while crammed between boxes of imported coffee in a dingy back room.

When he gets home, he makes a beeline for the shower, leaving his backpack and his stripped off uniform in his wake. He turns the water to absolutely scalding hot and stands in it for a long time, just letting it beat down on his chest and shoulders. The gradual loosening of his muscles and the sound the water makes as it hits the porcelain combine to shut his brain off, his thoughts quieted down to a low buzz.

Because of his money situation, Dean is usually pretty stingy with the utilities. Like right now, even though it’s cold as fuck outside, the heat is barely on in the house, and in the summer he doesn’t plan to turn the air conditioning on at all. He doesn’t leave the fridge open, or the coffee pot on, and he rarely watches TV. He usually takes short, cold showers.

Once a week, though, he lets the water run gloriously hot and he lets time get away from him. For almost half an hour every Saturday, he’s the carefree almost nineteen-year-old he was supposed to be, not the person he’s had to become to survive.

Once he comes back to reality a little, he washes languidly. When his hand reaches his cock, blue eyes and dark hair flash in his mind, but he ignores the thought and finishes his shower. Cas has been nothing but nice to Dean, and jerking it to the thought of him seems… Skeevy.

He dries off and dresses in a long-sleeved AC/DC shirt and a loose pair of flannel pajama pants. The only person likely to see him at all is Cas, who’s always dressed to the nines, and that’s crazy. It’s  _ Saturday, _ for fuck’s sake.

He settles in with his stack of homework on the couch and a microwaved cup of coffee from work in his hand. He’s gonna get a stomachache from it, but he needs to stay alert, so he accepts his fate with a minimum of grumbling.

He’s deep in the land of math problems when the sound of the back doorknob rattling makes him look up. He frowns, confused, until it dawns on him what’s going on. He grins and lays back a little to watch. It’s never occurred to him to wonder how Cas gets into the house. The vampire seems so otherworldly, mysterious. It’s more than a little funny to find out that he gets in by  _ picking the lock. _

He watches with a smile as Cas gets the door open, tiptoes into the house, and closes the door behind him. He has to smother a laugh when Cas even  _ locks _ it.

“Dude,” he says casually, “you could have just knocked.”

There’s no stopping the mirth that bubbles up when Cas jumps, almost snarling in his surprise. The blue-eyed man turns to pin Dean with a glare. Dean’s too busy laughing to notice.

When he finally calms down, he wipes his eyes and grins at Cas, who’s still glaring. “Come on, that was great! Big scary vampire, picking the lock on the back door so he can maintain his big scary image? That’s  _ hilarious.” _

“I… Wasn’t aware you were home,” Cas says primly, clearly flustered.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, that big Impala in the driveway is just for show.”

“I didn’t go to the front, I did not want your neighbors to…” Cas clears his throat. “What are you doing?”

“Smooth subject change,” Dean says with a smirk. He settles himself back onto the couch with his homework. “I’m studying. Finals are, like, two weeks away. I’m kinda freaking out.”

Cas tilts his head. “Finals?”

“The last test for a class. It’s comprehensive. It, I guess, makes sure you really learned everything you were supposed to? If I don’t pass, I gotta take the class again, and I  _ really _ can’t afford to pay for a class twice.”

Cas purses his lips. “This system seems… Flawed.”

“You’re telling  _ me.” _ Dean sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty nervous, actually.” He takes a deep breath, remembering Cas saying that Dean’s important, that Dean can  _ talk _ to him. “Kinda terrified,” he rasps. “I mean, I’m doing my best here, but what if I can’t do this? Mom thought I could, but that’s what moms are  _ s’posed _ to do, think the sun shines outta their kids’ asses.” Another deep, steadying breath. “I’m not sure I’m as smart as she thought I was.” Speaking about her in the past tense hurts. A lot.

When he looks up at Cas, a myriad of emotions are flying across his face. “I… Have faith in you, Dean. You can do this.” The words are stilted and clearly unfamiliar on Cas’ tongue.

Dean chuckles. “Real reassuring, Cas.” Despite their less than convincing delivery, though, the words  _ do _ warm Dean.

Cas sighs and comes to stand next to the couch. “Forgive me. It’s been… Quite a while since I had to comfort someone. My usual companions don’t have any self-esteem deficits whatsoever.”

Dean blinks, then scowls.  _ “Hey, _ I don’t have any-“

He shuts up at Cas’ flat look, but continues to glare. Because, okay, sure, he definitely has  _ issues, _ and he’s kinda sorta working on some of them maybe, but there’s no need to call him out. Damn.

He looks back at the homework covering the couch and coffee table. “As much fun as hanging out and dissecting all of my emotional problems sounds, I  _ do _ actually have to get some work done.”

Cas looks ready to argue for a moment, but his face softens. “I’ll busy myself elsewhere in the house, Dean. Return to your studies.” The vampire promptly disappears into the kitchen. Dean thinks about protesting, but ultimately goes back to homework.

Weird or not, it’s kind of nice not to be alone in the house.

* * *

About an hour later, the house starts to smell  _ amazing. _ Dean’s still knee-deep in trying to pass these damn classes, but he’s busy, not  _ dead. _

Cas walks into the living room with a plate in one hand and a glass in the other. He places both on the coffee table, on top of the papers there. He turns and wraps one hand around the back of Dean’s neck, forcing him to look over and melt into those blue eyes.

“Take a few minutes to eat,” the vampire murmurs. “You have to take care of yourself.”

Dean finds himself nodding. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Cas.” It  _ has _ been a few hours since he ate, and that looks like a handmade pizza on the plate Cas brought in, next to a huge glass of milk. His stomach starts growling fiercely at the food’s proximity.

Cas smiles and leans forward to leave a barely-there kiss on Dean’s forehead.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Over the next few days, going on into weeks, this becomes the routine.

Dean comes home, Cas is there.

Dean studies or does homework, Cas cleans or cooks or generally entertains himself somehow.

Dean passes all of his classes. When he tells Cas, the soft pride in those blue eyes means almost as much to him as Bobby’s gruff congratulations over the phone. Hell, even  _ Sam _ gets kinda pumped.

“I knew you could do it, Dean,” Cas says with a smile. “I never doubted you.”

* * *

The weeks surrounding the holidays are stressful. He doubles his shifts at the coffee shop once classes are over, trying to shore up his meager savings (although Cas buying groceries helps, no matter how much it bothers Dean.) He  _ is _ able to see Sam and Bobby for Christmas, for which he’s eternally grateful. Sam is still sullen and angry, but he hugs Dean just as hard as Dean hugs him, and he gets Dean an amulet he found at a local supply store for Christmas. It’s supposed to keep negative spirits away. Part of Dean wants to roll his eyes, but the rest of him is thrilled. He puts it on without a second thought.

Bobby is gruff, but clearly glad to have them both around, even if Dean can only afford to stay for one night. He gets Dean a bottle of whiskey, saying that he’s earned it by getting through his first semester unscathed. Dean laughs himself sick before pulling out the identical bottle of whiskey he got for Bobby (that he got Ash’s older brother to buy for him), sending them both into laughter again.

Dean managed to haggle down the price of an old mythological lore book at a pawn shop in Lawrence for Sam. The way his nerdy little brother’s eyes light up make it worth the negotiation.

As much as Dean wants to stay forever, he has to work the day after Christmas. So he wakes up before the other two, makes coffee for them, and hits the road.

* * *

When he gets back home, though he misses his family, falling back into the routine with Cas is almost as good.

He starts to learn about Cas in bits and pieces.

Cas was born in Russia. He’s dodgy about  _ when _ he was born, but Dean gets the feeling that it was a long, long time ago. He was born into high society, and he tells Dean stories about grand balls and royal galas that his family was invited to. Cas says it’s romanticized a lot, because while they were opulent, he says he mostly remembers how bad everything smelled.

Cas has been a soldier in every major war since he turned into a vampire. He gets a faraway, sad look in his eyes when he talks about it. He curses his own durability (vampires are, apparently, hard to kill). It makes Dean’s heart ache, and he threads his fingers through Cas’ and holds on until the shadows are gone from his face.

Once Dean starts school again, new habits are formed. Cas is in his house almost every night, and the nights that he’s gone, there’s food being made in the oven or the slow cooker  _ (when did I get a slow cooker?). _ On the nights he is there, he’ll sit next to Dean and read on his own until Dean’s struggling to keep his eyes open and listing to one side or the other. Cas will then gather Dean up and let him rest on his shoulder. He’ll run his fingers through Dean’s hair (with no regard for how sweaty or greasy it is, which,  _ gross, _ but Dean doesn’t complain because he’s terrified it will stop) and talk in his low, rumbly voice. He tells stories, talks about the events in history that historians got wrong (“History will remember Paul Revere for many things, but he was  _ not _ a dentist, Dean. I wouldn’t have let that man near my mouth on pain of death.”) When Dean falls asleep like that, he wakes up in his bed, on top of the covers but under the throw blanket.

It’s… Nice.  _ Really _ nice.

Cas also  _ listens _ to Dean. When he talks about his new classes (“There’s some douchebag in my history class, always wears a v-neck. What the  _ hell, _ Cas, it’s January!”), about the Sam finally warming up to him again, about the Impala or his job or keeping the house from falling apart around them. Through it all, Cas just listens.

It’s amazing, and like nothing that Dean has ever had.

So it’s not really surprising, the day Dean wakes up and realizes he might have the tiniest crush on Cas. Not surprising, no, but upsetting? Oh yeah.

Because Cas? Cas is something  _ more. _ Cas is probably hundreds of years old. Cas has seen so much of humanity and its journey. Cas has been a business owner and a soldier and a dog trainer and a  _ fucking pirate for a while _ (and he only rolled his eyes once when Dean declared him a “vampirate”).

Dean doesn’t know why Cas is hanging around so much, but he will eventually stop. There’s nothing holding him here but a semi-depressed teenager who sometimes can barely bring himself to do anything but  _ exist. _

So, no. Dean’s not going to act on his feelings, and he’s okay with that.

Really.

He’s fine.

* * *

It’s Dean’s nineteenth birthday today. He hasn’t told Cas, ‘cause it’s not a big deal, and if he brings it up now, it’s gonna be a  _ thing. _

Besides, he already celebrated. Charlie gave him a cupcake and a kiss on the cheek as they passed each other on the way to classes. Benny shouted, “Happy birthday, brotha!” across the quad. Sam called, and they managed to have a conversation that felt so much like  _ before _ that Dean had to go to the bathroom to wipe his eyes. And don’t think he didn’t notice the hundred dollar deposit that Bobby snuck into his bank account this morning.

So his birthday has been thoroughly celebrated. And if, maybe, the absence of his mother’s birthday pie, and his father’s yearly trip to a burger joint just he and Dean, leaves an ache in his chest that has made it hard to breathe all day, well. That’s Dean problem, no one else’s.

This is good, though. Cas is here, and his soothing presence is a balm to the raw, open wound that is Dean’s soul today.

The vampire is in the kitchen, finishing tacos and telling Dean about being a farmhand. This is fine.

This is enough.

“It was rather difficult work,” Cas says thoughtfully as he joins Dean in the living room. “Not the job itself, of course, but it’s hard to work on a farm when it’s near impossible for you to go into the sun.”

Dean chuckles and accepts the plate Cas hands him. “I can see how that would put a damper on your employment.”

Cas hums in assent. “And the horses didn’t like me.”

Dean laughs.  _ “What?” _

Cas nods. “It made sense. Vampires are predators, and horses are prey animals.”

“Damn, Cas, no one likes a bragger,” Dean chuckles. He leans forward and takes a huge bite of his taco. He isn’t ashamed of the straight-up sexual noise he makes when the flavor hits him. “God _ damn, _ Cas, I take it back. Go ahead and brag,  _ Jesus.” _

Cas smiles. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Dean gestures. “Cas, you gotta have some of these.” He pauses. “Unless… I mean,  _ can _ you eat?” He blushes.

The vampire sits back, amused. “Yes, of course. I can eat, but it wouldn’t sustain me. Were I not to consume blood, I would perish, no matter how much normal food I ate.”

Dean thinks that this conversation should freak him out more than it is.

“So, have you… Uh, been… You know, juice-boxing people?”

Cas looks away, and Dean thinks that if it was possible, Cas would be  _ blushing. _ “Ah, no, I have not been.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Really? Like, at all?”

Cas clears his throat awkwardly. “… Not since you, no.”

Dean blushes furiously again. “Oh.” There’s a strained silence, then, “That, uh… That was a while ago, Cas… And it, uh, it wasn’t very much.”

“I don’t need overmuch,” the vampire says softly. “When we… Ah, as we age, we need significantly less.”

“Oh.”

Another awkward silence.

“Do… You… Uh, need to? More?”

Cas tilts his head. “Pardon?”

“To, uh… Drink? Feed? Partake, or whatever?” Dean lets his head full to one side, exposing his neck. He gestures vaguely. “Do you need… It?”

Cas straightens slowly. “Dean, you do not have to… Please, I do not want you to feel obligated to…”

Dean scoffs. “Dude, you feed me, like,  _ every day, _ and this is why, right?” Dean smiles easily, still baring his neck, and ignores the twinge in the region of his heart. “I mean, that’s why you’re sticking around, right?”

Cas frowns. “Dean, of course not.”

Dean tilts his head back up to look incredulously at him. “Uh… Yeah? It is? You said I smelled hungry, or whatever. Why else would you be buying groceries and cooking and shit?”

Cas’ face softens. “Dean, I will admit that I came here at first to feed from you, but you surely can’t believe that it’s why I’ve stayed?”

“Uh… Protecting your investment?”

Cas exhales sharply, irritated. “Must you always think so little of yourself? Dean, I stay because I want to care for you.” He stands and comes over to sit next to Dean, who can’t help but lean close. When Cas starts to card his fingers gently through the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck, he feels his eyes fall closed. “I stay because you are kind, and selfless, and a bit lost. I see much of what I used to be in you. I did  _ come _ to feed, but I’ve  _ stayed _ for you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean sighs and tilts his head into the soothing touch. “But you gotta eat, right?”

“… I suppose, but I do not wish to make you uncomfortable. If you are unwilling at all, I will be fine without.”

Dean was tired when he got home anyway, and Cas’ proximity and touch are making him a little punch drunk. He scoffs. “Yeah, unwilling ain’t exactly the problem,” he mutters softly.

“What was that?”

“Uh, nothing, nothing. Look, you don’t have to worry about me, Cas. I don’t mind.” He turns to smile warmly at the vampire. “You feed me, I feed you, yeah?”

Cas looks strained, concerned, but his eyes are moving restlessly from Dean’s face to his neck. “Are you absolutely positive?”

Dean rolls his eyes and reaches up to cup the back of Cas’ neck and draw him close to Dean’s throat. “Just shut up and do it,” he says softly, fondly. He knows the only reason Cas is going along with this is that Dean wants him to. He doesn’t think anything could move Cas if Cas wasn’t damn good and ready to move.

Cas’ shuddery inhale makes Dean grin. The angle is kind of awkward, but the vampire comes closer and starts to nose at Dean’s neck.

“You  _ do _ smell healthier.”

“Yeah, I’ve got this  _ super _ persistent vampire always hanging around and shoving food down my throat.”

Cas doesn’t respond at all, and the only warning Dean ends up getting is the way Cas tenses, and then there’s the disturbingly sensual feeling of fangs sinking into his skin. He gasps, letting his eyes fall closed again. His hand lands on Cas’ thigh and he grips hard. It’s like trying to sink his fingers into iron.

The slow draining sensation doesn’t detract from how arousing the situation is at  _ all. _ It’s not just Cas’ full lips pressed to his skin, or the solid line of muscle next to him, or even the way Cas’ hand has come up to cup the other side of Dean’s neck, his thumb running affectionately back and forth on the delicate skin there. It’s about the feeling of being  _ owned, _ of Cas leaving his mark on him, and of a little bit of Dean being in Castiel. The twisting heat and dizzying sensation of Cas being so close, so  _ close, _ are heady and overwhelming.

It goes on longer than the first bite did. When Cas finally pulls off to lick the punctures closed, the world around Dean is soft and hazy. He takes advantage of their side-by-side positions to lean on Cas, letting his head hang to the side. Cas wraps one strong arm around his waist and pulls Dean even close. Cas presses a gentle, chaste kiss on the newly healed marks.

He nuzzles Dean’s neck, moving slowly until he’s at the skin just behind Dean’s ear. “How are you feeling?” he asks, voice low and thick and sending a drowsy sort of awareness up and down Dean’s spine.

“Dizzy,” he replies honestly. He’s shameless when he cuddles into Cas, and gratified when the vampire tightens his hold.

“We should get you to bed,” Cas murmurs.

“Don’t wanna move.”

Cas chuckles, and Dean presses against him harder to get closer to the sound.  _ Shameless. _ “Come now, Dean. You should eat the rest of your dinner.”

“Meh.”

“… If you eat, I’ll carry you to bed.”

Dean sits up a little and squints at Cas. “Really?”

Cas smiles. “Of course, Dean.”

He reaches for the taco without further complaint.

* * *

Later, after Cas did, in fact, carry Dean to bed, bridal style  _ (“This way’s for chicks, Cas.” “Hush, Dean.”), _ tucked Dean into bed, and pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving for the night, Dean burrows happily into the blankets.

A lot of things are wrong, of course. But Dean’s last thought before drifting into a deep, happy sleep, is that this day would have been a lot worse without Cas.


	4. Chapter Four

Everything’s like it was before, except now Dean regularly gets his rocks off by letting a sexy vampire in a waistcoat gnaw on his neck and drink his blood. It’s the little things, really.

In deference to this change, Cas has changed up what he cooks for Dean. He stammers and stutters when he tells Dean that he needs to be eating an “iron heavy diet” now, which makes Dean laugh out loud. When Cas blushes Dean realizes that it’s his own blood warming Cas’ cheeks, he has to go to the bathroom to get it together so he doesn’t embarrass himself by doing something stupid like getting down on his knees and begging the vampire to fuck him senseless.

Yeah, okay, Dean’s got some issues to work out. Whatever.

When Cas isn’t feeding Dean, he’s trying to make him drink his weight in water. Dean’s trying, he really is, and when he’s at home with Cas, it’s easier to keep up. At work, though, or at school, it’s almost impossible. If he’s drinking anything, it’s usually coffee, in a desperate attempt to stay alert enough to get everything done that he needs to get done.

The stink-eye he gets when he gets home and Cas can smell the caffeine in his bloodstream, though,  _ has _ encouraged Dean to start carting around one of those stupid reusable water bottles in an attempt to appease the vampire. It doesn’t really work, because there’s no way he can wash the scent of all of the coffee he consumes out of his  _ blood, _ but it’s the thought that counts, right?

The water bottle, though, for whatever reason, has made chicks (and a couple of dudes) think he’s some sort of  _ health _ person, which is hilarious for so many reasons, most of them bacon related. It’s  _ not _ hilarious because it makes them want to talk to him. When people talk to him, they generally want to flirt with him (what, he’s not  _ blind, _ he owns a mirror), and while that’s usually right up his alley, it makes him really uncomfortable now.

Because the other thing that’s changed since he started letting Cas feed from him is the  _ touching. _

It seems like Cas is  _ always _ touching Dean somehow. A big, warm palm on the small of his back. A hand on his leg, just above his knee, when they’re sitting next to one another on the couch. An arm draped casually along the back of the couch, so,  _ so _ close to being wrapped around his shoulders, while Dean enthusiastically tries to explain  _ Dr. Sexy, M.D. _ Gentle fingers running through his hair when he falls asleep on Cas’ shoulder.

Dean doesn’t mention the touching out loud, because he really, really,  _ really _ doesn’t want it to stop pretty much ever. He doesn’t know if Cas is aware of what he’s doing, but it’s kind of the best thing in Dean’s life, so he lets the affection go unchecked and soaks it up greedily.

So Dean doesn’t flirt back when people check him out, nor does he say something witty and alluring. He smiles, and he’s polite, because his mother raised him right, but he doesn’t let it go any further than that. He knows in his head that it wouldn’t be cheating, because he and Cas aren’t a  _ thing, _ but it skirts close enough to the edge that it makes Dean’s chest tighten with discomfort.

So Cas touches him, he doesn’t let anyone else touch him, Cas feeds from him, and Dean’s crush gets harder to control.

* * *

It’s a rare Friday night that Dean gets home early from work. Chuck looked kind of shifty when he sent Dean home, but considering the shamefully huge pile of homework that he’s got on the coffee table, Chuck barely even got the words out before Dean shot out the door like the place was on fire.

Now, he’s in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, his head resting in Cas’ lap as he reads through another essay by a dusty old dude for his stupid English class. The only good thing is Cas’ fingers in his hair as he reads, and the feeling of Cas’ cold, hard thigh beneath his head.

Life has been worse.

When the doorbell rings, Dean puts the papers on his chest and looks up at Cas from where he lies. Blue eyes are already looking back at him. “Should you answer that?”

Dean shakes his head. “Nah. Probably some kids fucking around or whatever. It happens.”

Cas frowns. “’Fucking around?’”

Dean chuckles and resolutely ignores the way the curse sounds on Cas’ lips makes his spine go all tingly and tight. “Like pranks, or dares. ‘Go ring the doorbell of the old haunted house,’ or whatever.”

“This house isn’t haunted.”

“I  _ know, _ Cas, ghosts aren’t… Wait, are ghosts real?”

“What could they hope to accomplish by ringing the doorbell of a haunted home?”

_ “Cas, _ are ghosts… You know what? Nevermind. I don’t want to know.” Dean sits up when the doorbell rings again, mourning the loss of contact. “They don’t want to ‘accomplish’ anything. It’s just stupid kid shit. Proving that you’re brave or whatever.”

“Pestering ghosts is brave?” Cas scoffs. “Foolhardy children.”

Dean chuckles as he stands and makes his way to the front door. The satisfaction he feels when Cas automatically gets up to follow him is barely even worth mentioning. Surely.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll show ‘em. Came expecting ghosts, got themselves a faceful of vampire, eh?”

“Dean, I will not frighten children to amuse you.”

_ “Ca-as,” _ Dean whines as he opens the door. “I ask so little of…” He trails off when he sees who’s standing at the door.

Charlie’s grinning big. “’Sup, handmaiden?”

_ “One time, _ Bradbury,” Dean says, though his heart isn’t in the rebuttal. Ash and Benny are standing behind Charlie, both smiling, and all three of them have bags of what appears to be junk food hanging off of their arms. “What’s going on?”

Benny shrugs. “Just comin’ to hang out, brother.”

“What, we need a  _ reason _ now?” Ash asks. The mullet practically quivers in offense.

Charlie’s already rolling her eyes. “You’re all ridiculous.” She looks back at Dean. “Look, we all feel really awful for neglecting you because of class and finals and shit.  _ So, _ I decided we’d ambush you with a surprise movie night!”

Dean frowns. “Neglecting? No one’s neglecting me. You guys have  _ lives-“ _

“Woah,” Ash interjects, his eyebrows at his hairline. “Who is  _ this?” _

The press of Cas’ cold chest to Dean’s back belatedly reminds him that almost all of his important people are here.  _ Worlds colliding. _ “Uh… Guys, this is Cas. He’s a friend.” Internally, Dean winces at the word, because “friend” hardly covers everything Castiel is to him, but it’s the easiest explanation available to him. He hopes this doesn’t make the touching stop.

“Hello,” Cas says in his formal, deep voice.

Even Charlie’s face is slack in shock.  _ “Dude,” _ she says emphatically. “I am gay as hell, and you are still the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.”

“I am standing  _ right here,” _ Dean protests as he feels Cas stiffen in surprise behind him.

“Sorry, dude,” Ash says unapologetically, his eyes raking down as much of Cas’ body as he can see. “I’m with Charles on this one.

Ash is just as bi as Dean is, and Dean tries to convince himself that he’s not getting territorial when he shifts to block more of Cas from view. “Hey, no hitting on my friends.”

“Since when has that been a rule?”

“Since right now, when I made it a rule.”

_ “Anyway,” _ Benny says, amusement sparkling in his icy blue eyes.  _ Bless the only straight person in the room for seeing sense. _ Although, Dean doesn’t know Cas’ orientation. Not that it matters. Because Dean’s unrequited crush is going to  _ remain _ unrequited.

“Movies?” Benny asks, and Dean gratefully brings his attention back to the situation at hand.

_ “Right!” _ Charlie crows. She makes her eyes big and pleading, and damn her, she  _ knows _ Dean’s never been able to resist. “Please, Dean? We feel really, really bad.”

“There’s nothing to feel bad about,” Dean says automatically. “Plus, I have to work tomorrow, guys. I gotta hit the sack soon.”

It’s not that Dean doesn’t  _ want _ his friends in his house. He very, very,  _ very _ much does. But he doesn’t want to be anyone’s  _ project. _ He’s not an  _ obligation, _ for fuck’s sake. He’s a grown-up, almost, and he knows very well that his friends can’t spend every waking moment doting on him or his emotional problems (Cas notwithstanding). As much as he wants to hang out with them, he doesn’t want them to feel like they have to give up their Friday nights for him.

“No, you don’t!” Charlie chirps, shoving her way past Dean and Cas and into the house. Dean’s grateful that Cas moves with him, and when he stumbles, he immediately has a cold hand wrapped around his upper arm to steady him.

“What do you mean?” he demands.

Ash is following Charlie, looking shifty as hell now. “Don’t worry about it. Andy’s gonna cover your shift.”

Andy, who is a great guy who’s fun to work with, is also possibly the laziest human being Dean has ever met.  _ “How?” _

“Don’t worry about it, but he’s gonna be a happy camper.”

Dean rolls his eyes with Benny and closes the door behind the Cajun. Cas trails behind him as he follows his friends into his kitchen, where they’re unloading all of the junk food and booze they’ve brought with them.

“And can it on the, ‘I can take care of myself and I’m a macho guy,’ routine,” Charlie says cheerfully as she pulls out a bucket of cheese puffs that could house a small child. “Nobody here’s buying it.”

Dean scoffs. “Shows what you know. I… Uh.”

All right, well. He still hates this. Showing vulnerability, admitting that he has feelings at all, much less that sometimes they’re negative feelings. All of this sucks, and it’s hard, and  _ terrifying. _ But Cas asked him to, and Dean’s starting to think that there’s not a thing in the world that he’d deny Cas, up to and including the blood in his damn veins.

“Thanks,” he says softly. Three pairs of eyes warm up, and Charlie’s beaming at him like he won a gold medal or something. In response, he rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Shut up. All of you.”

They laugh, and Ash and Benny start bantering in the kitchen. Dean’s chest is warm and tight with affection and gratefulness, and he doesn’t know if anything could ruin this moment.

“Dean,” Cas’ deep voice in his ear makes him shiver. “I should go.”

_ Moment ruined. _

Dean whirls around to look at Cas, trying not to let on how much the thought of him leaving hurts Dean. “What? Why?”

Cas cradles the side of his face with his cold hand, his eyes apologetic. “You should take this opportunity to be with your friends,” he murmurs. “I know you miss them.”

“You don’t have to go,” Dean whispers, tilting into the touch. “I’m not like… Kicking you out, dude. It’s not you or them.”

Cas frowns a little, and a look that Dean can’t interpret crosses over his handsome face. “Dean, I-“

“So,” Dean says loudly, “Cas has never seen Star Wars.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then an affronted gasp from the kitchen. “You  _ what?” _ Charlie screeches.

Cas blinks, then arches an eyebrow at Dean, who can feel the triumphant grin on his face. “I haven’t had the opportunity to take in many films,” the vampire says diplomatically, keeping eye contact with Dean.

“Well… Well… This will not stand!” Charlie splutters. “Star Wars it is!”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean says softly. “Star Wars it is.”

Cas’ eyes are intent on Dean, and there’s a heat there that’s usually only present right before he feeds. Dean’s still got a shit-eating grin on his face and he refuses to let it fade. It’s the only defense he has against the wild fluttering of his heart.

“So it seems,” Cas murmurs.

_ “Jesus,” _ Benny groans. “Well, if we gotta watch those damn movies again, I’m getting  _ drunk.” _

“Hear, hear!” Ash cheers.

* * *

A few beers later, Dean’s not quite  _ drunk, _ but he’s definitely a little tipsy. Ash, who doesn’t seem to be affected by the alcohol they’ve been consuming at all, is switching out the DVDs. Benny’s already asleep in the armchair, Cas is sitting on one end of the couch, and Dean is sitting next to him, trying to remember why Sober Dean thought putting some distance between he and Cas sounded like a good idea.

Because right now? Cas looks  _ amazing. _ He’s been watching the movie intently, and Dean has been watching him. The crisp dress shirt the vampire is wearing has been rolled up to expose his forearms, which are lean and muscled. The top button of his shirt is undone, revealing his collarbone. Cas has even gotten into the habit of taking his shoes off when he comes in, and coupled with the undone buttons and sleeves, it’s the most relaxed Dean has ever seen him.

Why is it, again, that he needs to resist temptation?

He’s about to say  _ fuck it _ when Charlie’s voice cuts through his alcohol hazy thoughts. “Winchester! Come help me make more popcorn?”

Though Charlie has been here countless times, in Dean’s tipsy mind, it’s perfectly reasonable that she’d need help working the microwave, so he heaves himself up off the couch (and if he makes himself wobble a little more than necessary so that Cas will feel the need to steady him, then he’s probably just a little drunker than he thought he was).

When he gets to the kitchen, though, Charlie pulls him into the only part of the room that’s not visible from the living room. Her eyes are dancing with mischief.

He frowns down at her, stumbling. “The hell, woman?”

“What’s with Hottie McHotPants in there?” she whispers happily. “Where did he come from? How did you meet him? What’s the  _ deal?” _

Dean can’t help what he knows is a goofy grin spreading across his face. “Uh, Cas is… A friend? Ow!” he winces when she smacks him on the arm. “What was that for?!”

“He is not just a  _ friend, _ Dean Winchester,” she hisses.

“Sure he is, Charlie. I mean he-“

“Why?”

Dean frowns. “Why what?”

“Why is he  _ just a friend?” _

Dean’s heart thuds hard in his chest. “Come on, C,” Dean says, falling back on a nickname from their childhood, “he doesn’t want me that way.”

She scowls. “Why not?”

“Let’s see. I’m…  _ Younger, _ for starters, I’m depressed, I’m broke, and even if he did want to date me, I don’t have the fucking  _ time _ to date someone, with work and school.” Dean shrugs like it doesn’t kill him a little. “It’s no big deal.  _ Ow! _ Stop hitting me!”

“Stop  _ lying _ to me, and I will,” she hisses. “You want him.”

Dean sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I mean… Yeah, look at the guy. Of course I do, but he doesn’t want me back.” A thought occurs to him, and he straightens up and glares at her. “And you’re  _ not gonna say a goddamn word, Charlene Bradbury.” _

She blinks in false innocence. “Of course not.”

_ “Charlie.” _

She holds her hands up just as the microwave beeps. “Scout’s honor,” she says before stepping away to pull the buttery-smelling bag out.

Dean glares at her and makes his way back into the kitchen. “You were never a girl scout,” he mumbles resentfully as he sits down next to Cas again. Charlie killed some of his buzz, and he’s been vividly reminded why those few inches between them are so important.

“What was that?” Cas is looking at him, his attention focused solely on Dean, and it’s both heady and terrifying all at once.

“Nothin’, Cas,” he murmurs, turning to watch the opening menu of  _ The Empire Strikes Back _ rerun over itself.

Charlie comes back in, her face suspiciously blank, with a big bowl of popcorn. “All right, bitches, let’s start this up again!” She flings herself onto the couch, and Dean barely has a moment to register her plan before he’s tossed to the side with the force of her landing.

Tossed directly into Cas’ arms.

Dean doesn’t even have time to  _ start _ spluttering out an apology before Cas’ arm is wrapped around him, tucking him close to his side. Dean places his hand on Cas’ chest and uses it as leverage to look up, directly into those ridiculous eyes.

“Is this okay?” Cas murmurs.

_ This dude is unflappable. _ “Uh… I mean, is it okay with  _ you?” _

He frowns, and Dean’s heart drops. “I worry that you will get cold.”

Dean blinks. That is  _ not _ what he thought Cas was about to say. “Uh, no, man. The booze has got me pretty warm, anyway, and I, uh…” his heart is slamming against his ribcage, and it feels like the alcohol is back in full force, making him dizzy and a little brave. “It’s kinda nice,” he says, his voice almost defiant. His eyes drop down to where his hand is on Cas, though. He’s completely unable to hold that earnest gaze with his own.

He can hear the smile in Cas’ voice. “I agree,” he says softly.

_ Huh. _ With no clue what to say next, Dean turns back to the TV. Cas tightens his arm and tucks Dean closer, until he’s nestled firmly into Cas’ side. He feels Cas’ arm moving, then a weight settle over him as the vampire takes the blanket from the back of the couch and throws it over Dean. Thoroughly coddled, Dean lets go of the rest of his shame and presses into Cas, even turning his head to bury his face into his chest. He hears the rumble of Cas’ chuckle, but ignores it to appreciate the way the vampire moves around to make Dean more comfortable, leaning back further into the arm of the couch and pulling Dean up so he’s basically on top of the man. If Dean were a cat, he’d be purring.

Cas nuzzles at his temple, and Dean sighs contentedly. “Sleep, Dean,” the vampire murmurs.

“But you gotta watch the rest of the movies.”

There’s a smile in Cas’ voice again. “I will, dearheart, but it’s time for you to rest.”

The pet name shuts Dean right the fuck up, and he tries fruitlessly to cuddle closer to Cas.  _ Good thing he’s all immortal and shit, I’d be crushing him. _

He hears Cas laughing at him again, but he huffs and moves around until he’s comfortable, his head tucked beneath Cas’ chin. Dean’s kind of a needy drunk, as it turns out.

Dean falls asleep with Cas’ arms tight around him, his lack of heartbeat distinct in his ear.

_ Damn, he smells good. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Have some drunk cuddling with a hot vampire as payment for how long it took my hobo ass to put this chapter up.


	5. Chapter Five

When Dean wakes up, he’s pressed against something cold and hard. Normally, he’d assume that meant he fell asleep on the tile floor in the bathroom or the kitchen, but he’s also wrapped in a warm blanket, and there are arms around him.

His head is pounding, but he cracks an eye open, hissing a little as the morning sunlight sears his retina. A deep, rumbling chuckle comes from the person beneath him, and cool fingers start to card through his hair. He groans and tilts into the touch.

“You should go back to sleep, Dean.”

At the sound of Cas’ voice, his eyes snap open, and Dean lifts his head enough to stare in dawning horror at the vampire beneath him.  _ I got drunk and fell asleep on Cas. I’m gonna have to move, change my name, never been seen again just to deal with how fucking embarrassing this is. _

“Oh, fuck, Cas, I’m so sorry, I can’t-” His voice sounds like broken glass, and his throat is burning, but Dean’s gotta  _ fix this somehow. _

Cas chuckles, his blue eyes fond as he continues petting Dean’s hair. “Shh, dearheart, it’s quite all right. You needed to rest.” He smiles. “I think you needed everything that happened last night.”

Dean can feel his cheeks heat with a blush, but he nods shyly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Cas smiles and guides Dean’s head to rest on his chest again. Hungover, still pretty damn shameless, and now armed with Cas’ permission, Dean cuddles into the vampire, rearranging himself until he’s comfortable. It’s the farthest he’s taken whatever liberties Cas has granted him since they met. He’s usually more focused on trying to keep his crush under control, but after last night, he’s starting to think that maybe his feelings are… Reciprocated? A little, even? Maybe?

The thought makes him grin, and he knows he won’t be going back to sleep for now. He just basks in the feeling of Cas’ arm around his waist, the other moving soothingly through his hair and up and down his back. Cas’ chest doesn’t move with the same rhythm as a human’s, but it’s somehow more comforting than disturbing. Humans are fragile, but Cas isn’t. Cas is unmoving and steady, a constant, still presence in Dean’s life.

_ I’m so screwed. _

Cas’ voice in his ear again, “You’re terrible at falling back asleep.”

“Too comfortable.”

“Hmm. Well, what do you think of making breakfast for your friends? I believe they’re going to start to wake up very soon.”

“Cas, you’re an  _ angel.” _

Cas chuckles again. “Hardly.”

* * *

Cas was right, everyone woke up just before the smell of bacon and eggs filled the house. Dean made everyone come sit at the kitchen table, vampire included, and they ate breakfast together. Dean won’t admit it (sure, he’s working on his ability to talk about his feelings, but there are  _ limits), _ but seeing almost all of the people he loves eating in his house eases some deep ache in him, just for a little bit.

The way Cas has an arm draped casually around the back of Dean’s chair  _ might _ have something to do with it, too.

He’s washing dishes now, whistling some tune he can’t remember the name of. Cas stands next to him, drying and putting them on the counter to be put away. His friends have gone home now, leaving Dean with promises of hanging out and checking in more often. He probably couldn’t be more content right now, even if he  _ does _ have that pile of homework that still needs to be done.

“Dean,” Cas says softly.

“Yeah?”

The vampire looks kind of… Nervous. “I… I had a lovely time last night.”

Dean beams as he hands the last dish over. “Yeah? Me, too, Cas.”

“I did, and I don’t want you to think otherwise, but…” Dean’s heart starts to pound in his chest as Cas starts to  _ fidget, _ which is something Dean’s never seen him do before. “But I… Something has come up.”

“Oh… Kay…”

“Nothing negative, necessarily. It’s just that I… I won’t be able to be here as frequently as I have been.”

Dean swallows hard and smiles a little. He knows it looks kind of strained, but that’s because it  _ is, _ and it’s the best he’s got right now. “Okay, no worries.”

“I’ll still buy groceries,” Cas hurries to assure him, “And I’d be happy to continue cooking for you, I just won’t be able to be as… Present, for a while.”

“Sure thing, Cas.”

“It won’t be permanent.”

_ Jesus. _ Dean turns and tries the smile again. It feels better this time. “Cas, come on. Not a problem. You’re not  _ obligated _ to be here, man. I get it, you’ve got stuff to do.” He flaps his hand. “Go, be productive, or whatever. I’ll still…” He swallows hard, desperately trying to keep up the cheery facade. “I’ll still be here.”

Cas is frowning. “Dean…”

“I’ve got a shitload of homework to do, anyway, so I’d better get started on that,” Dean says a shade too loudly.

The vampire sighs. “Of course, Dean.”

He turns to walk out of the kitchen, completely unable to stay in the room with Castiel any longer. “See ya around, Cas.”

“I’ll… See you around, yes.”

He tries to convince himself that he doesn’t listen for the back door opening and closing, but he knows it’s a lie.

* * *

Dean’s been broken up with enough times to know what’s going on.

_ Should have seen this coming. _

Sure, Cas said that it was fine, and that Dean could talk to him, but  _ who actually does that? _ It doesn’t matter that Dean was starting to sort of, maybe, feel better. He should have  _ known. _

He should have known because since his parents died,  _ nobody _ stays.

His friends, promises of increased contact aside, have done a gentle fade into their own lives. Hell, even  _ Sam _ isn’t around anymore. In his head, Dean knows that these things aren’t a direct result of his reaction to his parents’ death, but his heart isn’t so easily convinced.

So, yeah, no matter what Cas says, Dean should have seen this coming. He should have known that if he started to get clingy and weird, Cas was gonna bail. As soon as he let himself be taken care of, he’d prove to be too much for anyone else to deal with and they’d leave.

He just… He should have known.

* * *

Cas hasn’t disappeared completely. There are still groceries in the fridge that get mysteriously restocked, and more often than not, there’s dinner in the oven or the slow cooker when he gets home. So Cas isn’t  _ gone, _ but he’s not  _ here, _ either.

On top of everything else, Cas’ absence is too much for Dean to deal with, so he just… doesn’t. And the busier he is, the less time he has to think, so Dean happily loses himself in the routine.

In the mornings, he goes to school, where he pays more attention than ever (not that he was a slouch before). He takes pages and pages of notes, asks more questions than before, reads with more fervor than he used to. He even goes as far as finding an old recorder on Craigslist and recording his lectures so he can listen to them between classes or in the car.

After school, he goes to work. Andy’s got a new girlfriend, Tracy, so it’s easy as hell to pick up extra shifts at the coffee shop. Dean works almost every night, and it’s almost always until close. The shop has never been cleaner. The countertops and tables gleam, the floor is shiny under the soft lighting, and windows are sparkling. His bank account also becomes gratifyingly padded, not that he has the time to spend it.

As soon as he gets home from work, it’s homework. He does homework until he falls asleep, usually on the couch. He doesn’t use his bed, or his bedroom, a whole lot these days.

So he immerses himself in the things he  _ has _ to do and tries to ignore everything else, like the loneliness and forlorn feelings and the way he misses someone (not just Cas, specifically, but  _ anyone) _ being home when he gets home.

None of it matters, anyway.

* * *

Dean feels like shit.

He’s sure he needs to sleep more, or eat, or whatever, but he can’t bring himself to be still for that long. He knows he caught a few winks last night, so he’s probably fine, just needs to shake off this new bout of tiredness.

He makes himself another coffee and rubs his eyes hard. His algebra book is propped against the coffee maker in the back, where the customers can’t see it, so he runs through an equation in his head while he waits for his coffee to brew. Once it’s done, he doesn’t even have to look to add a few shots of espresso to it while finishing the math problem. He quickly scribbles down the answer in his equally hidden notebook, along with a note to himself to show his work as soon as he has a chance to write it down.

It’s been about two weeks  _ (sixteen days it’s been sixteen days) _ since Cas stopped coming around, but who’s counting  _ (you you’re counting)? _

Dean ruthlessly shoves the thought away. It’s something he’s gotten good at over the last few  _ (sixteen) _ days. He’s just gotta keep moving. If he does that, he won’t have to think about how cripplingly alone he is, or how much he misses Cas, or how he drove Cas away by being clingy and weird.

The bell above the door is a welcome reprieve, and he slaps his customer service smile on as he sets his coffee down and rounds the counter to the front register. When he sees who’s in front of him, his smile goes wider, and maybe he gets a little light-headed in relief.

Gabe smirks at him. “Heya, Dean-o.”

Dean leans against the counter for a moment before he can stand straight up. “Hey, Gabe, how’s it hangin’?”

Gabriel Novak has been coming into the coffee shop for a few months now. Dean doesn’t know what he does for a living, but he  _ does  _ know that the dude’s a sugar junkie to the extreme. Dean’s never really cared what his customers order, but the shit that Gabe drinks? Kinda gross.

“Shriveled and to the right,” Gabe answers, the same answer he gives every day. His dancing hazel eyes are a little subdued today. “What are  _ you _ doing here, kiddo?”

Dean shrugs, already starting the process of making Gabe’s “unicorn mocha surprise with sprinkles,” which Dean wouldn’t drink if he had a gun to his head. He feels kind of flushed. “Just trying to make enough money to live off of, man.”

Gabe cocks an eyebrow, and Dean realizes his eyes are clouded with  _ concern. _ “Yeah, but you’ve been here every night. For  _ two weeks.” _

Dean grins rakishly to cover up how uncomfortable he is, and how sick he’s starting to feel. “Aw, I’m all right, Gabe. Andy’s got a new girlfriend, you know how that is.”  _ Am I sweating? _

Gabe’s eyes are widening in alarm. “Dean? Are you all right, kid?”

Dean frowns and opens his mouth to respond when he realizes that his vision is clouded by huge grey spots. “Uh…”

_ “Shit! Kid! Dean!” _

The world is swallowed by a swooping blackness, and Dean falls gratefully into unconsciousness.

* * *

_ Beep… Beep… Beep… _

Unlike in the books he’s read or the movies he’s watched, Dean isn’t disoriented at all when he wakes up. He knows he’s in the hospital, and he even knows why. He  _ knew _ he wasn’t taking care of himself, and now that he really thinks about it, he realizes that he can’t remember the last time he ate something. It’s just been coffee for the last couple of days, as far as he can recall, anyway. So he’s not  _ terribly _ surprised that he’s here, mostly kind of irritated.

_ At least insurance will still cover me, _ he thinks wearily.

It’s a long time before he feels up to opening his eyes. He’s not sure how long he was out, but it doesn’t feel like it was nearly long enough. He can feel the exhaustion still fluttering at the corners of his mind, and the urge to just fall back asleep is almost overwhelming.

The part of him that his father raised, though, is worried that he has responsibilities he’s ignoring.  _ Should probably wake up at least long enough to call Chuck. _

He tries to raise his hand to rub at his eyes, and realizes that it’s currently being held between two cold, long-fingered hands, clasped tightly.

His eyes fly open to see Cas sitting next to his bed, his blue eyes a little frantic as they stare into his own.

Cas… Well, Cas looks a little ragged. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, for one, which is kind of blowing Dean’s mind, because where did the waistcoat go? He’s also pale, paler than normal, and it makes Dean think that the vampire isn’t feeding enough. His hair is wilder than it usually is, he’s clearly been running his hands through it.

“Cas?” Dean asks. His voice is husky with sleep.

Cas sags a little in relief. He closes his eyes and rests his head on his hands, still enclosed around Dean’s, for a moment. “Thank  _ gods,” _ he whispers fervently.

“Hey, man, I’m okay,” Dean says gently. “You don’t gotta-”

When Cas looks up again, his eyes are blazing. The look on his face is fierce enough that Dean shuts right the hell up.  _ “Dean,” _ Cas says severely. “You  _ idiot.” _

Before Dean can get up in arms about that, Cas lunges forward. Dean has a barely a second to have one incoherent thought about Cas needing to feed before Cas’ lips are on his, kissing him forcefully.

It takes him a moment to react, but by the time he realizes what’s going on, Cas is cupping Dean’s face in his big, cold hands, still kissing him. Dean wraps his arms around the vampire’s waist, fisting his hands in the back of his shirt. Once he starts to respond, Cas slows down, and their movements go from frantic to reverent.

Cas’ lips are soft, his mouth skilled. The feeling of his stubble against Dean’s sends tingles down Dean’s spine, making him moan softly. Cas licks gently along his bottom lip, and Dean opens without even a second thought, because this is Cas, and Dean’s always trusted Cas.

The heart monitor is going crazy.

When they finally come up for air, Dean’s breathing is a little labored, and he’s not hard yet, but it would take very little for his dick to get all the way there. He’s staring up at Cas, whose pupils are dilated and whose lips should be a little swollen. They would be if he had any blood in him, anyway.

Which reminds Dean…

“The  _ fuck, _ Cas?”

The vampire looks sheepish. “I was… Very worried.”

And, okay, Dean has other things to be thinking about right now. Like the fact that he’s in the hospital, or the fact that he was so hungry and dehydrated he  _ passed out at work. _ He wants to know where Cas has been, what he did to make Cas leave, and if there’s anything he can do to get the vampire back.

However, all that comes out of his mouth is, “So… So, you kissed me because you were worried?”

Cas’ hands are still on his face, and he uses one thumb to run along Dean’s cheekbone. The motion is so gentle and slow that one (one who wasn’t Dean) might describe it as  _ adoring. _ “Oh, Dean. I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment we met.”

“Why… Why haven’t you?”

Cas sighs. ”I didn’t want to… Scare you, or disturb you.”

Dean starts to chuckle. “Dude, I let you  _ drink my blood. _ I think we’re a little past being squeamish about swapping spit.”

Cas smiles wryly. “Well, now I know, I suppose.” He leans forward to kiss Dean again, more chastely, but just as world-rocking as the first one was.

When he leans back, he still just stares at Dean as if in awe. It’s something Cas does sometimes, the staring, and it never fails to make Dean squirm a little, even if he can’t deny that a little part of him likes it.

He drops his eyes down to the bed. His fingers run restlessly over the woven blanket. “So you didn’t… Leave? Or, like, get bored? Of me?” The last words are whispered, but Cas has supersonic vampire hearing, or whatever, so Dean knows he’ll hear them.

_ “Gods, _ no.” The disbelief in Cas’ voice goes a long way toward assuaging Dean’s fears. “Dean, oh, Dean.” Cas quickly moves around so he’s lying next to Dean on the bed. Dean goes willingly when the Cas pulls him close, pressing his face into the cold chest and shuddering in relief when the vampire’s arms are finally completely around him. “Dearheart,” Cas’ voice is low with worry, “how could you have possibly thought that?”

“I dunno,” Dean murmurs. “I mean, you stopped coming around, and I thought maybe  _ I _ scared  _ you _ off when we had that movie night.”

Cas’ arms tighten. “No, no, dearheart, I’m so sorry.” The vampire sighs. “There have been… Well, there are concrete reasons I had to stay away, Dean, that had nothing to do with my own wishes, but we cannot have this conversation here.” He looks around, tensing next to Dean. “Actually, we shouldn’t be here at all, we’re far too vulnerable. We must get you back home.”

Dean puts a hand on Cas’ stomach, pushing up to look at him. “Cas, I can’t just walk out of the hospital.”

“Well, sure ya can!” A very familiar voice says.

Dean turns to gape at Gabe, who’s got the same clothes on that he did at the coffee shop (so Dean’s probably only been here for a day, that’s a relief), except there’s a white lab coat on over everything.

“You’re a  _ doctor?” _

Gabe grins, and Dean notices that his incisors are a little…  _ Longer _ than normal.

“Oh, kiddo, I’m a  _ lot _ more than that.”

Dean blinks, his hand unconsciously curling in Cas’ shirt again. “Holy shit.”

Cas sighs, exasperation written in every line of his (delectable) body. “Gabriel, please.”

Gabe grins, but nods. “Yeah, yeah, let’s get you two lovebirds outta here.”

Dean looks up at Castiel, who’s already looking down at him warmly. His blue eyes are practically glowing with affection, and it makes Dean’s heart thump hard in his chest. “Cas,” he whispers, “what-”

Cas presses a light kiss to his forehead. “I’ll explain everything, dearheart, as soon as we get you home.”

“Could you two stop being gross? There are  _ sick _ people here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Phew. This one was a roller coaster.


	6. Chapter Six

It turns out that Dean was only unconscious for a couple of hours. He’d normally have to stay overnight for observation, but since Gabe is his doctor, he was able to be released early without being required to see a psychiatrist. Cas gave them both the side-eye for that, but he let it slide in the interest of getting Dean back home.

His deep voice rumbles in Dean’s ear. “A vampire can enter a hospital at will, so I won’t ask you to stay here, dearheart. But as soon as you are home safe, we will…” Cas swallows hard here, and his next words hold echoes of his original Russian accent. “As soon as you are safe at home, we _will_ be discussing what happened today.”

Dean just presses his face into Cas’ shoulder and nods, because someone giving a fuck about him is still something that sends him reeling, and he barely knows what to do with it.

* * *

Cas refuses to let Dean drive home that night. Normally, Dean would argue like hell against the idea of someone else driving Baby, but it never occurs to him to _not_ hand the keys over. It doesn’t hit him until they’re halfway home from the hospital what he did, or the significance of it. When it does really sink in, he looks over at Cas in the driver’s seat with wide eyes.

Cas turns and meets Dean’s gaze, frowning a little. “Dean? Are you all right?”

He thinks about saying it. About how the last person who drove this car who wasn’t Dean himself was John Winchester, and before him, Mary. About how Dean was even going to talk to Bobby about fixing up an old beater for Sam to learn to drive in, just to keep his Impala pure. About what a _big fucking deal_ this is.

Instead, he just smiles and reaches across the seat to take Cas’ right hand in his left, lacing their fingers together tightly. “Yeah, babe, I’m fine.”

Cas’ blue eyes warm up considerably before he turns back to look at the road again. He brings their joined hands up to kiss the back of Dean’s. “If you’re sure.”

From the backseat, Gabriel groans and smacks his head against the window. “You two are gonna be fucking _impossible_ to deal with.”

* * *

When they pull up to the house, a familiar figure is slouched against the railing of his front porch. It takes him a minute to place the guy, but as soon as he does, Dean groans. “Aw, _come_ on. _V-neck_ guy is a vampire?”

Gabe lets out peals of laughter as Cas pulls into the driveway. _“Oh,_ man,” he gasps, “I am _never_ gonna call him anything but ‘v-neck guy’ again.”

“I’m sure he’ll love that,” Cas says dryly.

“That has literally never stopped me,” Gabriel says just before he hops out of the car and swaggers to meet v-neck dude at the door.

Dean sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got some intense friends, Cas.” Something occurs to him and he turns to squint at the vampire next to him. “Did you have them _follow_ me?”

Cas at least has the decency to look sheepish. “It was purely for your protection. I would have told you, but I…”

“You were worried I would tell you to stop?”

“... Precisely. You are very prideful sometimes, and I had no wish to make you feel like I had any doubt in your ability to care for yourself, but I had to make sure that you were safe, and-”

Dean cuts him off by leaning over and pressing a hesitant kiss to Cas’ cold cheek. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “Thank you.” Because who ever said that Dean Winchester can’t learn to put his stupid pride aside?

Cas sighs and turns to press his forehead against Dean’s. “Have I told you yet that I’m incredibly relieved that you’re all right?”

“Only thirty times in the last two hours.”

Another sigh. “I’m sorry if I’m being overbearing.”

Dean grins. “It’s all right. I kinda like it.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Come, dearheart. You won’t be truly safe until you’re inside.”

Dean follows Cas up to his front door, where the other two vamps are waiting. Gabe looks cheerful, but v-neck guy surveys Dean evenly, a sarcastic twinkle in his eye that puts Dean on edge.

Cas’ big, cool hand on his back centers him again. “Dean, this is Balthazar. Like Gabriel, he’s an old friend.”

Dean offers a small smile. “Uh, hi. Dean Winchester.”

Balthazar (and what kind of _names_ are these?) tilts his head, a la Cas, and just looks at Dean. “So you’re Cassie’s pet human.”

After an awkward beat, Dean decides to ignore the dig. Instead, he turns to Cas and grins. “‘Cassie?’”

Gabe laughs again. “Oh, man. Best day _ever.”_ When Cas glares at him, he doesn’t even look cowed, but he does correct himself. “I mean, mini-coma and impending danger notwithstanding.”

That’s the third time someone has alluded to the “danger” Dean is in. He figures that no one will tell him what’s going on until they’re inside, so he takes the keys from Cas, unlocks the door, and steps inside. He senses Cas follow him in, but doesn’t hear the door shut. He turns to see Cas standing just inside awkwardly. Gabe and Balthazar are still on the front porch.

When he realizes why Dean blushes and laughs nervously. “Oh, uh, sorry. You two can, uh, come on in.”

Gabe and Balthazar push past Cas to walk in, looking around curiously. Dean stiffens a little, unused to strangers in his house, touching his things. Well, besides Cas, he supposes.

Then again, Cas has always been different, hasn’t he?

Lips are pressed to Dean’s ear again. “I’m sorry, dearheart. It’s just until the danger has passed.”

Dean sighs a little and leans back into Cas’ chest. The vampire's strong arms come up to wrap around his waist. “Somebody should probably tell me what the fuck is going on here, Cas.” There’s no heat in his voice.

Cas presses a barely-there kiss to Dean’s temple. “I agree.”

* * *

Once Gabriel and Balthazar get the dime tour (and Cas gives them the stink eye about invading Dean’s privacy, which may or may not make Dean a little hot and bothered), they all settle down in the living room. Cas fusses until Dean accepts a bowl of reheated leftovers, much to the teen’s embarrassment. He doesn’t protest out loud, because he’ll always want Cas’ attention and affection, but it’s a little humiliating being coddled in front of the other vampires.

Cas must sense that, at least a little, because there’s something rueful in his blue eyes as he sits next to Dean. Despite the bowl of food and the possibility of mockery, though, Dean presses into Cas’ side until a cold arm wraps around him and tucks him closer. Now that he’s exactly where he wants to be, he looks around. “All right, who wants to go first?”

Gabriel’s eyes are twinkling with humor, which Dean has no doubt is at his expense. Balthazar is just looking at them, no particular expression on his face. Dean wonders why he’s even _here._

“Actually, kiddo,” Gabe says with a smirk, “v-neck guy and I are gonna go secure the perimeter.” He ignores the blonde vamp’s grumbling. “We’ll let Cassie here fill you in.”

“Will you stop with that infernal nickname?” Cas growls, but he stays where he is next to Dean as the other two get up and drift toward the door. “And lock the door behind you.”

Once the sound of the door closing is heard, Cas turns back to Dean “Now, _you.”_

Heat kicks off low in his belly. “Yeah?”

One dark eyebrow raises. “I will not say one word until you’re eating.”

Dean scowls. “Aw, come on, I-”

“Dean,” Cas says severely. “You were in the hospital _tonight_ due to severe dehydration and malnutrition, which we _will_ be having words about, by the way. So you’ll have to forgive me if I will absolutely insist that you eat before I start talking.”

A wave of guilt crashes over dean. _Dammit._ He swallows any rebuttals or whining he had lined up and takes a bite of the stew Cas put in his hands.

Cas sighs and leans forward to kiss Dean’s forehead. “I don’t want you to feel guilty, dearheart. I just want you to take care of yourself, at least until I can eliminate this threat, so we can get you some real help.”

“Cas, I-”

“Dean, I’m not willing to argue with you about this. You told me before that you wanted to go to counseling, and I think the need for it has become more clear than ever.” He runs his long, cold fingers through Dean’s hair as he cups his head gently. “Have you changed your mind?”

Petulant, “No.”

Another kiss to his forehead, and no matter how much Dean wants to keep sulking, it makes him feel warm and gooey in his chest. “Thank you,” Cas whispers.

“For the love of God, Cas, can we stop talking about this, and you start telling me why I’m in so much danger all of the sudden?”

He feels the vampire smile against his skin. “Of course, Dean.” He sits back and looks at Dean expectantly until another bite of his stew is in his mouth.

Satisfied, Cas sighs and relaxes back into the couch. “I suppose I should begin by explaining that vampire must work to ensure that we do not isolate ourselves. It… It can make it difficult for us to retain ourselves.”

Dean frowns. “What does that mean?”

The look in those blue eyes is suddenly very old and very far away. “The human mind was not meant to live as long as I’ve lived, Dean. The more time that passes, the more the mind, and it’s perception, can deteriorate.”

Fear for Cas curls in Dean’s stomach, making eating a near impossibility. “But-”

Cas seems to sense Dean’s panic. The arm around him tightens. “We can combat it by making sure we stay social. By making sure that we stay involved with humanity. People are social creatures, and unless we cater to that need, we lose a part of ourselves.”

Dean waggles his eyebrows. “’Involved with humanity,’ huh?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Hush,” he admonishes.  “I’m trying to teach you something. Keep eating.” Dean dutifully takes another bite as Cas continues. “Vampires are fairly self-regulating. We have to be, which is why I’m here in Lawrence at all. An old acquaintance of mine has… I suspect he’s ‘gone rogue,’ if you will. I’m here to take care of it. That’s why I went through the neighborhood picking up those infernal ‘welcome mats.’” _Air quotes again, what the hell._ “I’m trying to protect the humans here while I track him down.”

“What are you gonna do when you find him?”

“I’m going to kill him,” Cas says casually.

“… _Dude.”_

“Indeed.”

Dean lets that roll around in his head for a few minutes while he finishes his stew. Cas seems content to stay there on the couch next to him, his arm running lightly up and down along Dean’s.

“Heya, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“If you were stealing _everyone’s_ doormats-“

“It was not _stealing,_ I was keeping you _safe-“_

 _“Anyway,”_ Dean interrupts, laughing and not wanting the old argument brought up again, “if you were ‘saving’ everyone from the evils of a welcome mat, uh…” He can feel his cheeks heating up. “Why did you come in _here?”_

Cas carefully takes the bowl from Dean’s hands and sets it on the coffee table. That done, he turns to cup Dean’s face gently and looks into his eyes. _This guy and eye contact,_ Dean thinks dazedly, though he’s content to keep looking at Cas’ lovely face.

“I told you before,” the vampire says softly, his whiskey voice rumbly and warm, “that I’m not sure what drew me to you, Dean.” One thumb gently runs along Dean’s bottom lip. “I’m not sorry that I was, though,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Dean chokes out, “Me either.”

Cas draws him forward into a kiss, and Dean goes willingly pliant against him. Cas is a damn good kisser, which Dean already knew from that stunt at the hospital, and Dean’s happy to let him take the lead. From the way he touches Dean, it’s obvious that Cas is still a little scared from what happened. His hands and lips are gentle, like Dean is precious, something to be cherished.

It’s kind of everything Dean’s ever wanted.

When Cas tips Dean backward and hovers over him, he can’t help but fist a hand into Cas’ t-shirt to pull him down until he’s resting on top of Dean, his weight warm and heavy. Cas pulls away to press soft, adoring kisses along Dean’s jaw, making him squirm and whimper.

 _“Cas,”_ he gasps.

“Hmm?”

Dean smiles up at the ceiling at the distracted way Cas acknowledges him. “Cas, what’s with the getup?”

 _That_ gets his attention, and Cas props himself up on an elbow to look down at Dean. They’re still pressed together from chests to knees, which is incredibly distracting. “What do you mean?”

Dean plucks at the t-shirt. “Casual Friday at the office, honey?”

Cas frowns. “What office?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s a saying, Cas. I’m just asking because you’re always dressed to impress, and you were at the hospital in… In just…” His words hit Dean, and he grins brilliantly up at the vampire, who he’s a hundred percent sure would be blushing if he’d fed recently. “You were dressing to impress _me.”_

“Well, I-“

“Oh, my _god,”_ Dean starts to chuckle. “You staged the whole thing just to impress me.”

“… I certainly did not-“

Dean’s laughing in earnest now, his arms around Cas’ waist to keep him where he is. “Oh, man, were you _nervous?”_

Cas growls and nips at Dean’s jaw, but there’s no real rancor in his words. “Hush, you.”

“Did you have a _crush_ on me, Cas?”

“Well, you do smell good, and you are rather lovely.”

Dean smiles and presses a kiss to the bolt of Cas’ jaw. “Oh yeah, you wanted me.”

Cas leans back to look him in the eye again, suddenly all business. “I have wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he says seriously, “and I cannot imagine a time when I will not want you in the future.”

The words go _straight_ to Dean’s dick (and his heart), and he shudders. _“Cas.”_

The next kiss is hungry and desperate, all playfulness gone. Dean has his hands twisted in the back of Cas’ shirt, his legs spread to accommodate the other man, and he’s moaning and rolling his hips as Cas carefully and with great skill drives him completely fucking crazy with his tongue. Cas has one hand on Dean’s hip, guiding his motions, and Dean kinda forgot that dry humping on the couch could be so good.

Or it _would_ be, if Cas didn’t pull back and close his eyes, breathing hard through his nose. “Dean,” he says softly, “we should stop.”

 _“What?_ No, we shouldn’t. That’s the opposite of what we should do.”

Cas leans down, but instead of kissing Dean again, he nuzzles gently at his temple. “You were in the hospital just a few hours ago, dearheart,” he murmurs. “You must be exhausted.”

Well, now that he _mentions_ it, Dean realizes he is a little tired. As in, he suddenly doesn’t ever want to move from this spot. He wants to sleep for a million years, and he wants Cas to stay with him. Dean sighs and tilts his head into Cas’ touch. “I guess.”

“I _know,”_ the vampire says fondly. “Come on, let’s get you into bed."

Dean is in the middle of making a suggestive comment about everything the two of them could get up to in a bed when the doorbell rings. Immediately, Cas tenses up on top of him, his eyes snapping to look at the hall that leads to the front door. A low growl comes from deep in Cas’ chest.

“Woah, down, boy,” Dean says softly, running a soothing hand up and down Cas’ back beneath his t-shirt. “Just let me up, I’ll go get it.”

 _“Dean._ You have no idea what could be out there.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “First of all, apparently this dude has been wandering around for weeks and hasn’t gotten me yet. Second of all, would a vampire even knock?”

“Well… He… Might?” Cas looks frustrated.

Dean pushes against Cas, which does nothing at all, but it makes him feel better, dammit. “Come on, babe. You can be right behind me when I open the door.”

Cas grumbles, but since there’s no good argument against it, allows Dean to stand. He guides him to the front door with a hand on the small of his back, which makes Dean want to roll his eyes and protest, but he lets it happen. Partially because it’s not like he could stop it, and partially because the whole “I’m going to protect you no matter what” thing is really working for him.

When he gets to the door and looks out the peephole, he winces. “Uh-oh.”

Cas immediately goes on the offense. “Dean? Dean, what’s wrong? I should-“

“No, no, no. It’s fine, Cas. It’s just, uh…” Dean swallows hard. “I’m about to be in big trouble.”

Cas tenses, but Dean ignores him to unlock and swing the door open. _Just like ripping off a Band-Aid,_ he thinks timidly.

He smiles wide, hoping to appease the man in front of him. “Hiya, Bobby.”

Bobby’s glaring from under his ballcap, and his mustache twitches in irritation. “Shut up, idjit,” he snaps as he walks past both of them into the house.

Dean lets him in, and lucky for him, Cas takes the cue and does the same. “Uh… Whatcha doin’ here?”

“Hospital called me,” Bobby grunts.

Cas frowns. “I thought Gabe took care of that,” he murmurs.

“Oh, I’m sure he did.” _Dammit._ Bobby might not have vampiric hearing, but the old dude does have some sort of supersonic bat ears, anyway. “A concerned nurse looked me up and gave me a call.” Bobby turns once he reaches the middle of the living room, crosses his arms over his chest, and glares at the two of them. “She was worried ‘cause one of their recently hired doctors came in with a teenage boy who was unconscious, insisted that they not call the emergency contact, and then another, much older man came in to do a bedside vigil, holding the boy’s hand.”

When presented with the face-melting glare that really only Bobby Singer can produce, Dean folds like a cheap lawn chair. “I’m sorry, Bobby. Some, uh, some stuff happened, and I guess I haven’t been taking care of myself like I should have, and _shut up, Cas,”_ he snaps when Cas snorts unattractively from behind him. _“Anyway,_ basically what happened was Gabe is a usual customer and when he was at the shop today, I passed out while I was making his order. Since Gabe is a doctor, I guess he was able to get me in pretty quick to get checked out.” Dean steps to the side to show Cas behind him, partially so he can demonstrate that the man is (mostly) harmless, partially in the hopes that that death glare will maybe hit Cas instead of Dean for a while.

“This is Cas, the dude who was, uh… ‘Bedside vigil-ing’ me, I guess. He’s not a bad guy, or anything, he was just real worried about me, and he wanted to make sure I wasn’t alone when I woke up.”

“And what _is_ he?”

Dean breaks out into a sweat. He _obviously_ hasn’t told Bobby or Sam about Cas at all, much less about him being a vampire. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

“Uh… What do you mean?”

“I _mean,”_ Bobby sneers, voice angry and spitting, “What is he to you? Boyfriend? Sugar daddy? Overly involved professor?”

Dean splutters and gasps. “You know what a sugar daddy is?”

Cas is frowning. “What, precisely, is a sugar daddy?”

Bobby rolls his eyes. “Boy, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

To Dean’s utter and absolute horror, he hears Gabe’s voice come from the back door in the kitchen. “Did I hear someone say ‘sugar daddy?’” he asks cheerfully.

“Mother of God,” Dean says, pained.

“Who the hell is this?” Bobby growls.

“These are my companions, Gabe and Balthazar,” Cas introduces as the other two come into the living room, too.

Bobby is really frowning now. “You into some sort of polyamory thing now, Dean?”

 _“You know what polyamory is?!”_ Dean squeaks.

Gabe looks delighted. “Yes!” he crows. “We’re all in a massive four-way relationship.”

“I wouldn’t be in a relationship with you if my afterlife depended on it,” Balthazar sniffs at Gabe, who gasps and clutches his chest in overdone offense.

“We most certainly are not,” Cas says severely.

Gabe flings himself onto the couch, one hand still at his chest, the other resting on his forehead. “Woe is me! Do you see how they treat me, good sir? How they disown me in public, but seek me out at night to warm their beds?!”

Balthazar is laughing, Bobby is glaring, Cas is growling again, and Dean gives up completely.

“Bobby, this is Cas. He’s my boyfriend, and yes, I just decided that, so we can talk about it later if you want,” he says to Cas. He turns back to Bobby. “Cas is also a vampire. Apparently, there’s some sort of crazy vampire running around gnawing on people, so Cas is here to protect me. Gabe and Balthazar are also vampires, Cas recruited them to help, too, so they can help put the one who’s crazy down.” He surveys the group of people in the room. “Did I miss anything?”

Gabe and Balthazar are gaping, and Bobby is still glaring, which aren’t really improvements. But when he turns to look at Cas, he’s beaming at Dean, practically glowing.

As much as Dean wants to be all happy and shit back at Cas, the exhaustion really has hit him, and he just wants to go to bed, and he’s gonna insist on taking his vampire with him. “What?”

“You called me your boyfriend,” Cas says with relish.

“For Jesus fucking Christ’s sake,” Gabe complains. “Are we twelve?”

“Are _you?”_ Dean snarls, still angry.

“Enough.”

Bobby’s soft voice shuts everyone right up. Deans sighs and leans back into Cas, who easily wraps an arm around him and holds him close.

“So, you,” Bobby points at Dean, “threw some sort of hissy fit because you won’t goddamn admit that you’re depressed after what happened to your folks, and you passed out. You,” pointing at Gabriel now, “are the doctor who took him to the hospital, who also happens to be a vampire, which you,” Balthazar, “are as well.” The three of them nod, and Bobby looks at Cas.  “Which brings me back to you.”

Cas is standing straight, still holding Dean. “Yes, sir.”

“You’ve been seeing my boy, and you let him get so bad he had to be sent to the hospital?”

Dean frowns. “Hey, that was my fault, not Cas’, and-“

“I was trying to find the rogue vampire and put him down,” Cas says easily, no defensiveness in his voice at all. “I was unaware that my absence would have such a profound effect on Dean. We’ve already discussed it a bit, and he already has a plan to address the situation.”

Bobby glares for another minute, then nods decisively. “Well, all right then.”

 _Something’s wonky here._ “Wait, wait, wait,” Dean snaps. “You’re not gonna say a word about the vampire thing?”

Bobby shrugs. “Well, it’d explain tall, pale, and brooding getting all handsy over here.”

There’s another uproar of Gabriel’s laughter, and Cas huffs indignantly, but Dean just stares at his surrogate uncle in wonder. “You… You knew.”

Bobby looks surprised. “Well… Yeah. You didn’t?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This chapter was so much fun to write. I honestly had such a good time.


	7. Chapter Seven

“I was scared shitless, had no idea what to do. I was about to make a break for it when some jackass kicked in my front door and shot the thing in the heart with a silver bullet. Saved my stupid ass.”

Dean thinks he might actually be in shock.  _ “What?” _

Bobby, sitting in one of the chairs in the living room, shrugs. “His name is Rufus. He hung around until after Karen’s funeral. Took me on a couple of jobs, but I had other responsibilities. Full-time hunting wasn’t for me, but the salvage yard ended up being a watering hole for hunters, anyway.”

The only thing that still seems solid, especially after the clusterfuck that has been today, is Cas’ arm around Dean’s shoulders. The vampire sits next to him on the couch, pressed together chest to knee, one arm wrapped tight around the teenager. The cold, hard feeling of Cas next to him makes everything just that much more bearable.

Well.  _ Some _ things.

“I…” Dean swallows hard. “I thought Aunt Karen died from cancer.”

Bobby scoffs. “What, I was gonna tell you kids that werewolves are  _ real? _ Hell, Dean, I didn’t even tell your parents about what happened to Karen.”

Dean has very vague memories of Bobby’s wife. He thinks she had light hair, and he knows she had a kind smile. He remembers from the few visits they managed before she died that the house used to smell like pie.

He presses closer to Cas.

“Please allow me to extend my condolences,” Cas’ voice rumbles in Dean’s ear. “I have never lost a partner, I cannot imagine how painful it must have been for you.”

Bobby nods solemnly. “She was the love of my life.”

Dean resists the urge to squirm. It’s not that he didn’t know how much Karen meant to his uncle, it’s just that he’s still struggling with the whole “being open and honest about feelings” thing. Hence the situation he currently finds himself in.

Bless Cas, though, he doesn’t let the moment carry on for long. He just tightens his arm around Dean and says, “So you’re not a hunter, then?”

Bobby shakes his head. “Nah. Had too much going on with the yard, and with Mary always hanging around, refusing to let me be depressed in peace.” He gives Dean the stink eye, but doesn’t call him out again.  _ Thank God, _ the teenager thinks fervently.

Cas is smiling. “She sounds like she was lovely.”

Dean can feel his composure start to get shaky and unreliable at the mention of his mother. “She was,” he says hoarsely.

Cas presses a kiss to his temple and mercifully moves on again. “You’re not a full-time hunter, but you said your establishment has become a gathering place. You must be extremely knowledgeable, then.”

“I know a thing or two about a thing or two,” Bobby says reluctantly. “Not a whole lot about vamps, though, I’ll be honest.”

It’s a ridiculously clumsy dig for someone who claims to be an experienced pseudo-hunter, but Cas just smiles. “I’m afraid there’s not much to know, but you’re welcome to ask.”

Bobby sits forward, eager. “How often do you feed?”

“Newly changed vampires eat much more frequently than those of us who are older, but arrangements are made to prevent the loss of human life. I, however, feed about once a month.”

At this, Dean turns and cocks an eyebrow at his boyfriend (a term he’s still freaking out about on the inside). Cas keeps his eyes on Bobby, but Dean thinks he sees bashfulness in the vampire’s baby blues.  _ Once a month, my lily white ass, _ he thinks fondly.

Bobby, thankfully, seems to be more focused on the topic at hand. “What kind of ‘arrangements’ are taken with newbies?”

“A few of us have farms,” Cas says, no trace of hesitation in his voice. “The newly turned feed off of pigs until they’re deemed responsible enough to feed without draining a human.”

Dean wrinkles his nose in disgust, but Bobby’s frowns. “And when they  _ are _ deemed responsible enough?”

“Worry not. There are few, if any, vampires who still feed on unwilling humans. Those of us who have... Paramours,” Dean blushes furiously and the other two men graciously ignore him, “often drink from them, if we’re given consent. Otherwise, there are always blood banks, or we have humans are willing to be paid to let one of us drink from them.”

Dean sits up and stares at Cas. “There are  _ blood hookers?” _

“... In the vernacular, I suppose you could call them that. When one lives as long as we do, it’s easy to amass quite a bit of wealth. We also tend to pay more than actual blood banks, too. It’s a decent living, I’m told, and the only real work to be done is to eat an iron-rich diet.”

Thinking of the meals Cas has cooked for him over the last few weeks, “...  _ Dude.” _

But Bobby’s nodding.  “Makes sense. Keep everything under wraps, avoid detection. Avoid  _ hunters.” _

Cas shrugs with a sort of detached arrogance. “Hunters are more of a nuisance than a real threat, to be completely frank with you. We’re exceptionally difficult to eliminate.”

Bobby nods. “That’s what I hear. In fact, the only thing I know for sure is true is that y’all require an invitation to enter a home.”

“It’s humanity’s only real defense against us. We’re faster, stronger, and sturdier, but we do need to be friendly enough to be asked in if we want inside.”

“And the sunlight thing?”

“A myth created to comfort humans who had no way to defend themselves outside of their homes.”

“Garlic?”

“A seasoning, nothing more.”

“A stake to the heart?” Dean frowns at the glint in his uncle’s eye and cuddles closer to Cas.

Cas blinks, tilting his head, confused. “My heart doesn’t beat,” he says slowly. “Why would driving a stake into it make a wit of difference?”

Bobby sits back with a sigh. “So there’s really no way to kill you?” At Dean’s dissenting noise, “Not  _ you, _ of course, but vampires?”

“The issue lies, again, in our strength and our durability. Beheading will kill us, as you say, but we are  _ incredibly _ fast, and are therefore hard to catch. The remaining problem is our durability. Even if a human  _ did _ catch a vampire unaware, I find that I have a difficult time believing any human possesses the strength to  _ actually _ sever our heads from our necks. It would take… Immense power.”

Bobby’s response is interrupted by Balthazar coming in through the back door. When he realizes all three of them are looking at him, he smirks. “Hello, darlings.”

Bobby, however, is not to be deterred. “Y’know,” he says thoughtfully, “I heard of a hunter who accidentally knocked a vamp into a woodchipper. Seemed to kill him pretty damn dead.”

Cas and Balthazar’s eyebrows are both at their hairlines. “Well,” Balthazar says dryly as he walks into the living room to lean against the arm of the chair Dean and Cas are sitting on, “woodchipper trumps pretty much anything.”

Cas turns to the other vampire. “Is there any news?”

Balthazar sobers a bit, and Dean is able to see through the douchebag facade and into the worried friend beneath for just a moment. “No sign or scent of Alastair, I’m afraid.”

Cas curses under his breath. Bobby cocks an eyebrow. “Who’s ‘Alastair?’”

“A vampire nearly as old as myself who has lost his grip on his sanity,” Cas explains. “I believe he is somewhere in the city, killing humans at random. I intend to put a stop to it.”

Dean grins. “Show-off.”

Cas turns to look at Dean evenly, his blue eyes blazing with possessiveness. “I’m simply stating a fact. I  _ do _ intend to kill the creature that threatens you.”

A flash of heat shoots through Dean which he immediately has to smother.  _ Not in front of Bobby, _ he scolds his libido. Aloud, he grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you’re a big scary vampire, we all know.”

Balthazar is making a face. “As delightful as watching the two of you fawn over one another is,” he smirks when Bobby snorts in agreement, “I just dropped in to give a status report. Gabriel is still working the perimeter, so I’m going to take off. I assume you’ll be willing to relieve him when he’s done?”

“Of course,” Cas says with a nod.

Overcome with curiosity, Dean blurts, “Where are you even going? I thought you weren’t from around here?”

The douchebag is back in full force. “Well, while staying indoors and sighing like a damsel in a dimestore novel works for some, the rest of us have to go in search of companionship outside of our homes.” His eyes turn a little dreamy. “I’ve met an absolutely  _ lovely _ woman named Marcy who has a  _ bit _ of a wild side, not that I’m complaining. She’s invited me to have a menage-a... “ He tilts his head. “What’s French for ‘twelve?’”

“Douze,” Bobby and Cas answer at the same time.

Dean groans. “Gross.”

Balthazar beams. “Brilliant. I’m off, my loves. Do nothing that I, myself, wouldn’t do!” He tosses the last bit over his shoulder as he leaves.

Castiel frowns. “There’s very little that Balthazar wouldn’t do,” he says darkly.

“Well, he’s a… Character,” Bobby says politely.

Dean barks out a laugh and Cas smiles. “Indeed.”

Silence ensues in Balthazar’s absence. Dean searches his brain for  _ anything _ to say to fill it, but Bobby beats him to the punch.

“So, looks like you’ve got enough… Backup,” he says, clearly trying to be diplomatic.

“We do,” Cas agrees.

“I can stay if you need more. I might not be quite as strong as you, but I can lend a hand.”

Cas shakes his head. “I have no doubt that you will prove invaluable as an ally, but I think you should return home. Even the most experienced hunters would be ineffectual against a vampire. We’re almost indestructible unless fighting one another.”

Dean frowns. “Wait, so he could really hurt you?”

Cas’ fingers rub soothing circles into Dean’s upper arm. “I have been alive for an exceedingly long time, dearheart, and a great deal of that time has been spent fighting. I have every confidence that I will be the victor.” The vampire looks back at Bobby. “It would be advantageous, I believe, if you were to go home. Even if you both stayed here, indoors, it would be significantly easier for my companions and I to focus on tracking Alastair down and eliminating him if we only had one human to protect.”

Dean frowns, but Bobby is already nodding once. “All right, all right, that makes sense. I’ll hit the hay in the guest bedroom and leave in the morning, then.” He stands to do just that.

Dean stands, too. “I’ll go make sure the bed’s made up.” His mother’s lessons on hospitality are deep and unshakable.

Bobby waves him off as he walks toward the stairs. “I ain’t no actual guest, boy. I know where everything is.”

They watch him go up the stairs in silence, and Dean’s thoughts run wild for a moment.

He  _ knows _ that if Alastair showed up right now, he’d kick Dean’s ass six ways to Sunday. He knows he’s no match for a vampire, no matter how much he’d like to pretend differently. He knows that when Cas says he needs to protect Dean that it’s true, he  _ does _ need to protect Dean, at least from a  _ rogue homicidal vampire. _

So why does it sting?

_ Because of toxic masculinity, _ Charlie’s voice counsels in his head.  _ Because at some point, you got it into your big dumb head that you needed to be the strong one, regardless of the situation or your partner. _

He sighs and decides to let it go. Maybe he’ll be angsty about it later, but honestly, right now? He’s just kind of totally and completely exhausted.

Cas, the damn mind reader, must sense it, because not a moment after Dean has the thought, he’s standing next to him. “You must be worn out,” Cas says gently. “You should go to bed.”

Dean turns and wraps his arms around Cas’ neck, leaning on the vampire without a second thought. Cas holds him up effortlessly, and Dean can feel him smile against his temple. “Come with me,” Dean insists.

“Dearheart, you know I want nothing more, but-“

“So do it.” Dean knows he’s begging a little, but he really is kinda shameless when it comes to Cas, and he really  _ is _ super tired. “Just till Gabe comes back, Cas. Please?”

There’s not even a beat of silence before Cas nods. “Very well. Come on, then.”

There was a time when Den would have objected to the way Cas stoops to pull Dean into his arms, gathering him close to his cold chest, princess style. That time is not now. All he does is lay his head on Cas’ shoulder and lets the dude carry him to bed.

_ Who am I to argue with an act so unbearably hot? _ he thinks cheerfully, drowsily.

When they get up the stairs and to the door, Cas sets him onto his feet gently, like he’s precious. It makes Dean feel warm and goopy in his chest again. It also makes him do dumb shit like blurt out, “Sorry I called you my boyfriend.”

Cas stills, frowning a bit. “You are?”

Dean groans internally at himself and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, I mean, I just mean that I kinda put you on the spot, y’know, and we didn’t talk about any of that. Charlie says it’s important to talk about that kinda thing before you go blurting shit out, because you might out someone as being gay or bi or whatever, and I didn’t mean to do that to you. It’s just that Bobby was gonna ask, and Gabe and Bal were being tools, and I panicked, and I-“

A cold finger gently pressed against his lips stops him in his tracks. He blinks, looking into warm blue eyes, and realizes that his vampire is smiling fondly.

“Dean,” he murmurs, so close Dean can smell him, his voice incredibly tender. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Unable to keep eye contact, Dean drops his gaze down to stare at Cas’ broad chest. “Just thought you, uh…”  _ Be honest, he wants me to be honest, be honest. _ “Thought you might think the word ‘boyfriend’ is a little high school, I guess,” he mutters.

Cas’ voice is warm when he speaks. “I’ve been alive for a long time, and I have done many things, but I never did attend a ‘high school.’ Maybe I could use a bit more of it.”

Dean looks back up at Cas and chuckles. “You’d have been a total nerd, Cas.”

Cas cocks an eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, were you, if not a ‘nerd?’”  _ Those damn air quotes. _

Dean doesn’t talk a lot about high school these days. The memories of his family, being alive and  _ happy, _ are usually too painful. He keeps quiet as a defense mechanism, a desperate attempt to keep his head above water.

Somehow, though, it’s not that agonizing when he’s talking to Cas.

So he smiles. “I was a jock, Cas.”

The adorable head tilt makes another appearance and Dean’s heart thuds in his chest.  _ Jesus, he’s hot. _

“What does ‘jock’ mean?”

Dean smiles and wraps his arms around Cas’ waist to pull him closer. The knowledge that the vampire only ever moves when he wants to, and the only reason Dean can drag him around at all is that Cas wants him to is intoxicating.

“It means,” he murmurs, tilting his head so his lips brush Cas’ as he speaks, “we woulda had to be  _ real _ sneaky when we did stuff like this.”

When their lips meet this time, there’s heat, but no urgency. Dean’s too tired to do much of anything, really, and he knows Cas respects that. The fire is still there, the passion, but it’s soft, gentle,  _ easy. _

Cas’ lips move slowly against his, almost inexorably. Dean finds himself being crowded against the wall, Cas’ hands on his hips, their bodies pressed against one another from chest to groin. He’s being held up by Cas more than his own legs at this point. Dean moans and reaches up to run his hands through Cas’ thick hair, tugging a bit at the nape.

Cas’ breath stutters and he presses his groin to Dean’s, who feels a surge of heat in his belly. With Cas’ scent all around him, his warmth, his fierce, huge  _ presence, _ Dean’s starting to think that he’s not that tired after all when the sound of someone clearing their throat obnoxiously has them both pulling back from one another, but not actually moving away.

Gabe  _ (the dick) _ is standing in the doorway, smirking. “You know,” he says brightly, “as your doctor, I gotta tell you that I don’t really recommend dry humping in hallways as a remedy for exhaustion and dehydration.”

Cas stiffens guiltily and Dean groans.

“Of course,” Cas says. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Gabe laughs. “Oh, I’d say you were thinking.  _ Clearly, _ you were thinking of getting in Dean’s sweet-”

_ “Gabriel,” _ Cas snarls, even as Dean feels himself flush hot in a blush. “That’s  _ quite _ enough.”

Gabe shrugs it off. “Whatever you say, boss. I really  _ did _ come to tell you that it’s your turn to patrol.”

Cas nods. “Very well. I’ll be down in a moment.”

Gabe leers.  _ “Yeah _ you will.”

_ “Gabriel.” _

The shorter vampire holds his hands up in surrender and goes back down the stairs. Cas watches him go with narrowed eyes, and Dean leans forward to rest his head on Cas’ shoulder.

“S’okay, Cas, I’m kinda tired, anyway.”

He feels Cas’ lips in his hair, making his own curl into a smile. “Of course you are, dearheart. Come, to bed with you.”

Drowsiness hits Dean like a ton of bricks, and he lets Cas bustle him into his bedroom. He watches lazily as Cas pulls the covers back, and only has a few snarky remarks, mumbled through a half-smirk, when Cas tugs his sweats to his ankles and guides him into bed.

“Jeeze, Cas, at least buy a girl dinner first.”

Cas smiles. “I’ve made you dinner countless times. If I’d known that was all it would take…”

Dean is already half asleep. “Aw, Cas, you had me at, ‘we do not  _ sparkle.’” _ He feels like his Cas impression isn’t half bad.

There’s a beat of silence, then a soft sigh and fingers running through his hair. “You had me the moment I saw you, dearheart, and have not released me from your thrall for a moment.” Cas’ voice is soft, dark with passion and earnestness.

Dean feels himself blush again even as he falls asleep to the feeling of Cas pressing a kiss to his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I really struggled with this chapter. I know it's kind of an info-dump, which I know can be kind of boring, so I tried to put enough snark and schmoop to make up for it in there, too. But the info-dump is really important and it's setting up for some stuff in the future. Anyway, the point is, if you didn't like this chapter, tell me so we can talk about it behind its back.


	8. Chapter Eight

Group projects are the _worst._ Outside of the homicidal rogue vampire who wants to murder him, they are the bane of Dean’s existence.

He’s in a group chat having a heated debate about the division of labor when there’s a knock at his bedroom door.

“Hey, kiddo,” Gabe says cheerfully. “Grub is ready.”

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose hard and sighs. “Okay, thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.” When there’s silence on the other side of the door, signalling Gabriel’s departure (the vampire is _always_ making some sort of noise), he breathes a sigh of relief.

It’s not that he’s not grateful that Gabe and Balthazar are going out of their way to protect him, because of course he is. It’s just that, well, neither of them are _Cas._

Over breakfast the day after Bobby showed up, Gabe explained to them both that Cas is the oldest of the three vampires, apparently by a long shot. He’s also the best hunter _(why is that hot, and does it really matter?),_ so he’s devoting the majority of his time to hunting down Alastair. Because of that, Gabe and Balthazar have essentially split their time fifty-fifty, one of them patrolling and the other watching Dean.

It’s _terrible._

Gabe isn’t as bad as Balthazar, if Dean had to pick one. Balthazar’s just kind of a douchebag, talking frequently about his conquests and bemoaning his loss of free time (although Dean notices that he never actually _demands_ any free time, he just bitches about it). Although Gabe is more likely to make fun of Dean any given time he opens his mouth, at least it’s mostly good-natured. Gabe’s kind of fun to be around.

When he makes it downstairs to the kitchen, Chinese takeout boxes litter the table next to a beaming vampire. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I just ordered a little bit of everything!”

Dean side-eyes him as he surveys the rather impressive spread. “You couldn’t have just asked me?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Somewhere along the line, Cas must have passed along the message that “Dean Winchester must be fed at all costs,” because Gabe and Bal both make sure food is on the table at regular intervals. Balthazar, for all his faults, is actually a tremendous cook. It’s easier to put up with what a huge asshole he is when the kitchen smells like heaven in a frying pan. Gabe, on the other hand, is a danger to himself and others when he’s in the kitchen. After the first incident, Dean put his foot down, and now Gabe just orders takeout when the need arises.

Dean smiles. “Looks great, Gabe. Thanks.”

Gabe beams. “Let’s eat!”

Gabe is also the only vampire who eats. He’s got a sweet tooth (that “unicorn mocha surprise with sprinkles” will haunt Dean’s nightmares for _life),_ but he can appreciate pretty much all food.

As much as he misses Cas, and it’s like a dull, constant ache in his chest, it _is_ kinda nice to eat dinner with someone on a regular basis again.

* * *

As they’re finishing dinner, Dean’s phone chirps with Buffy’s voice saying, “If the apocalypse comes, beep me.” He wonders for a beat if there’s any way Gabe didn’t hear it, or maybe if he misinterpreted it, before the vampire speaks.

“Better get that, Dean-o, you know I’m reporting back to Cassie about it,” he says casually.

Dean scowls. “You know, I _am_ an adult.”

Gabe snorts and doesn’t deign to respond to that, and yeah, in retrospect, Dean is grateful. He _did_ pass out a few weeks ago because his boyfriend wasn’t talking to him. Maybe he doesn’t have the strongest case for adulthood there ever was.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens the text.

 **From: Dr. Moseley  
** How are you this evening, dear?

Dean responds quickly. Dr. Moseley doesn’t take very well to delayed communication.

 **To: Dr. Moseley  
** I’m all right, Doc.

 **From: Dr. Moseley  
** Have you done what we talked about yet?

 **To: Dr. Moseley  
** I have a date to hang out with Charlie tomorrow, does that count?

 **From: Dr. Moseley**  
Sure does, sugar. I’m proud of you.

Dean blushes.

 **To: Dr. Moseley  
** Thanks, Doc.

Dr. Missouri Moseley is the psychiatrist that everyone was able to agree on (although no one is able to tell Dean exactly _when_ everyone got to have a say in his mental health). Bobby wanted the best of the best. Sam wanted someone who graduated with high honors, someone with breakthrough ideas and theories. Gabe wanted someone who offered cookies in the front office. Balthazar wanted someone whose office was both close to a bar and easily defendable. Cas wanted Dean to be happy.

Dean just wanted someone he could _talk_ to.

Missouri is kind and soft enough to make Dean feel safe, while at the same time being strict and firm enough to make him feel chastised when he isn’t taking care of himself, or if he’s neglecting the things he should be doing. Her soft, whispery voice and twinkling brown eyes welcome him every time he comes into her office, and he always feels better just by being there.

She’s also _extremely_ involved with her patients. Because she wants to work around Dean’s busy schedule, she’s set up a more text-based relationship with him than he expected. It’s really nice that he doesn’t have to make time to go all the way over to her office (especially with a blanket-covered vampire in the back seat for every visit, because even though it won’t kill him, Balthazar bitches about the sun incessantly when they have to go out in the day), but that he can just text her if he’s feeling like he needs guidance.

It’s also really, _really_ nice to have someone to show him how to deal with the way he feels alone and kind of scared and desperate all the time. Missouri immediately put the kibosh on what she calls his “impressive ability to isolate himself while still being so busy he can barely sit down.” Now, instead of studying alone, he’s most often studying with Charlie or Benny, and he’s taken to meeting Ash in the school cafeteria most mornings for breakfast. It’s little things that he probably should have thought of himself but didn’t, and now he’s just grateful for the company again.

Between Missouri making sure he talks to other people and the vampires making sure he eats real food regularly, Dean feels better than he has since his parents died. Now all he needs is Cas.

* * *

“So- _oooo,”_ Charlie draws the word out long and teasing. “How are things with _Ca-as?”_

Dean blushes. “He, uh… He’s been kinda working a lot lately.”

They’re sitting in the school cafeteria for a study session, although they’ve taken a break to eat. Books, notebooks, and loose papers are scattered across a table that’s probably too big for just the two of them to be taking up, but neither of them actually care.

“What does he do?”

 _Uh…_ “Uh… Personal security,” Dean blurts out.

Charlie waggles her eyebrows. “Oooh, a real hero type. Nice.”

“Shut it, Bradbury.”

She cackles gleefully and Dean finds himself smiling along despite the squirming discomfort in his belly caused by lying to his best friend.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Charlie. Hell, Dean trusts Charlie with his life. She’s his best friend, and he knows she’d never tell anyone. Just like he knows that Sam, Benny, and Ash would keep his secret. But he remains silent.

It’s just that he doesn’t want to _put this_ on them. Charlie is nerdy stuff, comic-con, late night study sessions, and trying to psych herself up to ask Dorothy out. Sam is reading too much and being a know-it-all and Dean’s little brother. Benny is guy-time and friendship, and Dean has known Ash since they were both in diapers. They’re all too good, too pure, too… Well, too _young_ to put this on them.

Dean might be the same age as them, but he hasn’t _really_ been the same age as his friends for a long time now.

So he doesn’t tell them that Cas and his friends are vampires, or that there’s a rogue vampire out there hunting people. He’s asked that Gabe and Bal check on their individual houses on their patrols, but that’s about the extent he can take it to right now, so he’s made peace with that.

“So, does he like, carry a gun?”

“No, Charlie.” Dean grins. “He doesn’t need to.”

_“Oh my God.”_

* * *

Several nights later, Dean is reading through one of his essays that’s due tomorrow while shoving his face full of pizza when Gabe sits down on the couch next to him.

“You know,” he says, with no obvious provocation, “this is the first time Cassie’s been this way over a human.”

Dean blinks in surprise. He looks closely at the vampire but finds no trace of humor or mirth on his face. He carefully places both his piece of pizza and his paper down and turns to give Gabriel his full attention. Being serious is a rare enough thing for the dude that Dean wants to be appropriately present for it.

“The first time Cas has been what way?”

Gabe shrugs a little. He’s sitting on the edge of the seat, staring at Dean intently. He doesn’t seem _nervous,_ per se, but a little wound up.

“Protective, I guess.”

“Oh… Kay…”

Gabe rolls his eyes. “Look, here’s brass tacks. I owe Cassie a _lot_ of favors, Bal does, too. We’re both on the… _Impulsive_ side of the scale, let’s say, and Cas has pulled us out of more bad situations than I can remember without ever asking for anything in return.”

Dean nods. None of this information surprises him, really. “What does any of that have to do with me?”

Gabe meets his eyes again. “This is the first time Cas has ever asked us for something.” Dean blinks, and Gabe continues. “Look, I don’t do the ‘protective brother’ shtick very often, because gods know Cas is a big boy and can take care of himself. But he’s also one of the good ones. I need to make sure that this isn’t a ‘notch in the belt’ situation for you.”

Dean blushes. He kind of resents the implication for a beat, that he’d use Cas like that, but if he thinks about what he’d do if Sam were in this situation, he thinks Gabe is handling it admirably.

“No,” he says finally. “No, this isn’t… I mean, this is serious to me. _Cas_ is serious to me.”

Gabe nods once, firmly. “Good.” His face relaxes, and the usual mischief gathers in his eyes. “Now, what do you say we-”

He’s interrupted by a commotion at the door. Dean turns to frown at it, but Gabe is already moving lightning-fast to look through the peephole. His entire body is tense, fraught with danger and strength, and it brings home again for Dean how powerful the creatures surrounding him really are.

“Fuck,” Gabe spits, starting to fumble with the door.

The panic in the vampire’s voice has Dean vaulting over the couch and hurrying to the door to help. By the time he gets there, Gabe has the door open. He flings it wide and drops to his knees to the bundle that’s there on the front porch.

Dean’s looking over his head, so it takes him a moment to make sense of what he’s seeing. There’s blood _everywhere._ The t-shirt is torn to shreds, and the torso beneath is covered in a few superficial scratches and several deep gashes. One’s so deep there’s a sliver of white where bone is showing through. The jeans are also splattered with blood, torn in a few places, as are the sneakers. His face is bruised and battered, one deep cut along his sharp left cheekbone. His eyes are closed and his breathing is labored.

It’s not really until he absorbs the shock of dark hair, matted with blood on one side, that it sinks in for Dean.

And _damn_ if he doesn’t hate how small and young his voice sounds when he finally finds it.

“... Cas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Sorry this was so late, and so short, and 100% a cliffhanger. Life got hard. The next one will be better, because who doesn't love some distraught Dean comforting some hurt Cas?


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I'm sorry about the cliffhanger for last chapter...

Cas groans brokenly at the sound of Dean’s voice, and Dean  _ panics. _

“Shit.  _ Shit. _ Fuck! What do we do?!” He knows he’s shouting, but he can’t seem to stop.

Gabe is less than impressed. “First of all, calm down, princess. Your white knight is gonna be fine. We’ve just gotta get him cleaned up a little. Come on, help me get him inside.”   


Having someone be so calm in the face of a bloodied and beaten Cas has a sort of soothing effect on Dean.  _ If Cas can be there for me, I can be there for him, _ he thinks, determined to help his boyfriend.   


He holds the door open for Gabe, who scoops Cas up into a bridal carry (which Dean will find funny later,  _ much _ later). The shorter vampire carries Cas up the stairs to the bathroom. He sets Cas down on the toilet lid, sort of partially propped against the wall. He appears to be pretty much completely unconscious.

“Is he really gonna be okay?”  _ Why do I sound like a fretting housewife? _

_ Because you  _ are _ a fretting housewife. _

_ … Shut up. _

“Yeah,” Gabe says kneeling to pull the first aid kit out from under the sink. “He’ll be fine. Just gotta clean him up for aesthetic and get him fed.”

Dean blinks. “Fed?”

Gabe gives him the side-eye even as he’s opening the first aid kit. “Yeah, and speaking of, you might wanna get that blood sugar up, kiddo.”

_ The finger points of dating a vampire, _ Dean thinks with just a touch of hysteria as he nods. He spares another glance for Cas, but he’s still pretty out of it, and this bathroom really isn’t big enough for three full-grown men.  _ Well, two full-grown men and Gabe. _

Keenly feeling a sense of total uselessness, Dean goes down to the kitchen. On autopilot, he makes orange juice from frozen concentrate and pulls a few of Balthazar’s homemade cookies from the jar.

As he tries to get his blood sugar up enough for Cas, Dean struggles to remain calm.

_ Who did this? It had to be another vampire, right? From what Cas told Bobby, there’s nothing else it could have been. Was it Alistair? Did he get the drop on Cas? He had to have, Cas is too good. I mean, that’s what Gabe and Bal keep saying. Right? _

_ He’s gonna be fine. _

_ Right? _

He’s not sure how long he stays there, munching on cookies and sipping orange juice (in his head, he knows it should taste weird, but everything just tastes like panic right now) while he stews. Finally, Gabe comes back downstairs, wiping blood from his hands with the towel from the bathroom. There are spatters and smears of it on his clothes, too, making Dean’s stomach clench around the cookies he just ate.

He swallows hard. “Is he-“

“He’s fine, kiddo, I told ya he would be. He’s even sort of conscious now.” He throws the hand towel into the kitchen sink. “I put him in your bedroom on the bed, but I got him cleaned up, first. He’s just gonna need to feed.”

Dean nods.  _ I hope that stuff was enough. Everyone is feeding me pretty well still, though, so I  _ should _ be all right. Cas always says he doesn’t need much, but he just got hurt, so I’m thinking he might- _

“Uh… Dean?”

“Yeah, Gabe?”

Gabriel’s golden eyebrow is cocked, and he’s starting to smirk. “You waiting on anything specific, princess?”

Dean feels his cheeks heat in a blush as he mumbles an excuse and gets to his feet.  _ Dammit. _ The last hour has him feeling frazzled and overwhelmed, and he tells himself that’s the reason he wasn’t already up the stairs by the time Gabe was done.

When he gets to his bedroom, the sight that greets him has his heart stuttering in his chest. Cas is lying on his back on Dean’s bed, his pale, muscled torso bare. Low on his hips ride a pair of Dean’s pajama pants, and if he’s not mistaken, there’s nothing else on the vampire. The pants pool charmingly at Cas’ ankles, just a smidge too long.

The gashes on Cas’ belly and chest stand out starkly, red and strangely bloodless. Cas has tried to explain to Dean a hundred times how the blood he takes from humans works more efficiently for him because of the magic in his body, old magic that has had centuries to sink into Cas’ bones and perfect the way his system works. Dean doesn’t get it.

It doesn’t matter, though, because what he does know is that Cas needs blood for those terrible wounds to close up, so Cas can be healed and Dean never has to see them again.

Feeling overdressed, Dean strips his own shirt off and crawls into bed next to his vampire in just his jeans. It’s the first time he’s been this bare in front of Cas, but he tries to keep any shyness at bay. What’s important here is Cas.

The vampire turns his head weakly to look at Dean. His blue eyes are unfocused and half-closed.

“... Dean?”

“Yeah, babe,” Dean says, smiling gently and trying to suppress some of the emotions that are welling up in him. “Right here.”

“You should go,” Cas says softly.

Dean, who kinda saw this coming, rolls his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. You need to feed, Cas.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured.” Dean can see the struggle it is for Cas to keep his eyes on him.

“I want to help you,” Dean whispers, scooting closer. He props himself up on his elbow and puts his other wrist in front of Cas’ face, waving it around a little. He knows Cas can smell the blood pumping in his veins from the way he groans weakly. “Come on, Cas, you’ve been doing all this work to make sure I’m all blooded up. The hell was all that or if not for this?”

Cas’ pretty mouth frowns. “It wasn’t beca-”

“I know, I know, it wasn’t just so you can feed. I’m teasing you, Cas.” Dr. Moseley has been scolding Dean for not believing Cas when he says stuff like that, and he really  _ has _ been working on it, but  _ come on. _ What’s the point of feeding your boyfriend iron-rich foods if you’re not gonna feed from him?

“Please,” he says finally, holding his wrist up again. “Come on, Cas, I hate seeing you like this.” He makes a fist with his hand and squeezes, sending blood rushing to the appendage (yeah, he did some research, it’s what one does when one’s boyfriend drinks blood for sustenance). That must be what does it.

Even exhausted, injured, and starving, Castiel is still a  _ vampire. _ Dean finds himself shoved onto his back in seconds with an armful of sexy vampiric strength. Cas is sniffing up the artery in Dean’s neck, breathing in deeply. It’s all Dean can do to stop himself from moaning outright in some sort of Pavlovian response. Cas nuzzles at the right spot for just a moment, and before Dean can really prepare himself, fangs are sinking into his neck.

He’s completely unable to help his whimper, or the way he arches up into Cas.  _ Oh, Jesus. _ They’ve never done this lying down, they’re always standing or sitting next to one another. The way he feels pinned down, totally wrapped in everything that is Cas, is intoxicating. Cas’ weight holds him immobile, and Dean is suddenly way too aroused to fight the way his legs part a little to make room for Cas between them.

One of Cas’ hands is cradling Dean’s head on the opposite side from his fangs, fingers sinking into his hair to hold him in place. As Cas drinks and gets stronger, his thumb begins to stroke the flesh just behind Dean’s ear, effectively  _ driving him insane. _

This time when Dean arches into Cas, he realizes that he’s hard, which isn’t surprising at all. He usually gets at least half hard when Cas is feeding, but with the vampire on top of him, shirtless to boot? There was no chance of anything else.

He also realizes that most of Cas’ injuries have already healed. The skin that’s against his own chest and belly is smooth again, cold pressed up to his own warmth.

Most importantly, however, Dean realizes that  _ Cas _ is hard.

_ Oh, holy Jesus fuck, _ he thinks, hot and delirious. His hands find Cas’ hips and hold the vampire still as he grinds up into him, all composure lost.  _ “Cas,” _ he moans breathy and whimpery.

Cas growls against his neck, never disengaging from where he’s bitten down. The draining feeling is still there, but it’s almost completely overshadowed by the lust and  _ want _ that’s sparkling through Dean’s limbs, starting at his dick and ending in his fingers and toes. It makes it hard to think, hard to do anything but mindlessly press against Cas again and again.

Finally,  _ finally, _ after long minutes of just Dean moaning and grinding, Cas takes his other hand and settles it on Dean’s hip, stilling him. Dean only has a beat to worry that he’s gone too far and pushed Cas away before the vampire is grinding back down, making fireworks go off behind Dean’s eyelids, which he realizes now that he’s squeezed shut.

Cas pulls his fangs out of Dean’s neck, which is  _ incredibly _ sensual, and licks the wound closed. Dean moans shamelessly at the feeling of Cas’ tongue on his skin, writhing beneath him.

Cas pulls away just enough to whisper in Dean’s ear. “You’re intoxicating, dearheart,” he purrs. He hooks one hand around Dean’s knee and pulls his leg up to wrap around Cas’ waist, giving him better access to grind down against him. When Dean whimpers, he can feel Cas’ wicked smile against his skin. “Such beautiful noises you’re making for me.”

_ “Cas, _ Jesus Christ,” Dean gasps, rolling up into every move Cas makes, meeting him thrust for thrust. He can’t believe how close he already is, just from a little dry humping.  _ Again. _

_ Vampire magic, _ his mind supplies hazily, and he rolls with it.

Dean reaches one hand down to cup Cas’ ass, urging him to move faster. When Cas obliges, Dean buries the fingers of his other hand into Cas’ hair, turning the vampire’s head so he can  _ finally _ kiss him.

Cas gives a shuddering moan, then throws everything he has into the kiss. Dean opens for him immediately and is invaded in the absolute best way. He can taste  _ Cas, _ but also just a hint of copper, and when he realizes that’s blood,  _ his _ blood, his heart stops for just a moment before kicking into overdrive.

Dean bucks his hips and Cas lets them roll over, easily taking the position Dean had before. Dean feels a little wild as he bucks down, unable to stop his actions or the way his orgasm is hurtling towards him. His cock is aching, straining against the zipper on his jeans, but he can’t even slow down enough to think, much less take any clothes off.

“Cas,” he pants. “Cas, gonna come.”

Cas smirks as much as possible while still kissing Dean. “Just from this, dearheart?” he asks, his hand cupping Dean’s ass in an echo of his own move from moments before. “I haven’t even touched you properly, my love.” He pulls away enough to speak clearly, thoughtfully. “Think of what you’ll do when I get my hands on you for real.”

Dean groans and leans down to bury his teeth in Cas’ shoulder as he comes, the vampire’s words ricocheting through him and leaving trails of pleasure and heat in their wake. He pants and shudders, his hands tightening convulsively where he’s holding onto Cas for dear life.

Cas’ breath stops completely for a moment before Dean finds himself on his back again. Cas kisses him harshly, their teeth clicking together, and they both moan when just a bit of blood is introduced to the kiss. Cas thrusts down viciously a few more times before groaning and grinding against Dean hard, hard enough that Dean can feel Cas’ cock pulse through his pants as he comes.

Cas seems to find it in himself to roll off of Dean before he collapses. His chest is heaving, but Dean thinks that it’s more from habit than need, since Cas doesn’t actually need to breathe at all.

After a few moments of catching their breath, Dean wrinkles his nose at the sticky, cooling mess in his jeans. He turns to look at Cas, and is completely unsurprised to see the vampire already looking back at him. He smiles as warmth spreads through his chest at the soft affection in Cas’ eyes.

“We should clean up,” Dean says, his voice almost a whisper to avoid breaking the peace that has gathered around them.

“Indeed.” Cas reaches to entwine their fingers. “In just a moment.” When Dean cocks an eyebrow, Cas blushes prettily  _ (that’s my blood) (down boy, there’s no way we can get it up again that quick). _ “I’d… Like to lie here for a while longer with you.”

Dean finds himself blushing, too. “Yeah, all right.”

* * *

Once they take turns in the bathroom cleaning up (Dean finds himself strangely hesitant to get completely naked in front of Cas yet, which is entirely ridiculous, but he feels better about it when Cas acts like he feels the same way), they get back into Dean’s bed, with Cas claiming the need to rest and Dean just feeling the need for closeness.

They’re lying under the covers, facing one another, sharing a pillow. It’s easily the sappiest, girliest thing Dean’s ever done, and it’s probably one of his favorites at the same time.

“So,” he says in an effort to get out of his own thoughts, “what happened?”

Cas sighs. “Alastair.” When Dean physically flinches, Cas reaches forward and laces their fingers again. “Shh, dearheart, I’m all right.” Dean fights himself for only a moment before he scoots forward and tucks his head under Cas’ chin, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing himself against Cas. The vampire’s chuckle rumbles through his chest and he tucks Dean close.

“What happened?” Dean repeats, his lips brushing against Cas’ chest as he speaks this time.

“He ambushed me. If he hadn’t done so, the fight would have been much fairer. As it is, he got a decent blow to my head and took advantage of my impaired ability to maneuver with what was probably a concussion.”

The casual way Cas talks about the altercation has Dean wincing again and holding Cas even closer. He doesn’t complain, just lets Dean squeeze him (although that might be another thing to chalk up to the fact that Cas doesn’t have to breathe, now that Dean thinks about it).

Once he calms down a little, Dean asks, “Do you think he’ll leave town now?”

“Things are rarely that simple,” Cas says ruefully. “I would love to believe that, but no. He was… Driven. Insane. I don’t think he’s got all his wits about him. He said some disturbing things.”

“Like what?”

Cas shrugs, but Dean can tell it’s a little forced. “Things about ‘returning to our former glory,’ or ‘leaving behind the life in the shadows.’ Nonsense, I’m sure, but it did make me… Uneasy.”

“Any reason why?”

Cas shakes his head. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m sure it will come to me.”

Dean sighs and rubs his hand up and down Cas’ back. “We should probably get some sleep, Cas.”

Cas smiles and presses a gentle kiss to Dean’s forehead. “I agree, dearheart.”

Cas doesn’t need nearly as much sleep as Dean, and he knows that Cas usually spends the time that Dean’s asleep watching over him (and that level of adoration is something Dean tries not to think about, lest it make him dizzy and his chest ache). Given his recent injuries, however, Dean thinks his vampire probably will finally sleep a little, even with all of the blood he took.

Dean presses his face into Cas’ chest. “‘Night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

* * *

When Dean wakes up, his cheek is pillowed on Cas’ chest. Cas’ arm is wrapped around his shoulders, the other flung out to the side. Dean’s arm is laid across Cas’ belly, as is his leg, holding him close. It takes a few minutes, but as Dean’s brain boots back up, he smiles at the cuddling.  _ Damn, I missed this. _

However, he drank a  _ lot _ of orange juice last night, so he gently extracts himself from the bed. Before he goes downstairs, though, he stands and stares at Cas.

It’s so rare that he gets to look at Cas without him staring back. His dark hair is wild against the pillow, and his skin is pale and smooth. His eyes are closed, but his eyelashes cast long shadows against his cheeks, and Dean has the color of them memorized, so he can picture them easily.

After looking as much as his bladder can stand (but not his fill, he’ll  _ never _ get his fill of looking at Cas), Dean silently leaves the bedroom and goes down the hall to the bathroom.

Once he’s done in there, he goes down into the kitchen for coffee. Gabe and Bal are absent, so the house is quiet, peaceful, for the first time in ages. Dean soaks it up as he fills the coffeemaker and putters around the kitchen. He feels…  _ Good. _ He feels really, really good for the first time in a long time. He thinks about texting Dr. Moseley to let her know, but he knows it’s her day off, so he relents.

He’s pouring a cup of coffee, thinking about what he needs to get together so he can get to class  _ (maybe Cas can “escort” me today?), _ when a rock comes hurling through the kitchen window. The glass shatters, and along with it, the peaceful morning.

_ “Hey!” _ Dean shouts after a beat, running towards the back door, anger burning in his veins. Some of it is probably from fear, a reaction to the unexpected, but a lot of it is from the feeling of  _ this is his damn house! _ He doesn’t take heed of the broken glass he goes over except to note that there’s the sort of distant feeling of stinging cuts opening on the soles of his feet when he opens the back door.

He steps out onto the porch, glaring. He almost walks right into a tall, thin man with unsettling eyes that seem to absolutely  _ devour _ Dean, and not in the fun way. He’s dressed in a white button-down shirt and black slacks, but it’s not nearly as appealing as it is on Cas. His hair is cut close, and when he smiles, his teeth are crooked and jagged.

And long. They’re too long.

_ Oh. Oh, fuck. _

“Dean,” the slimy voice says, “how delightful of you to meet me outside your home.”

Like he’s in a trance, Dean looks down to his bare feet, standing just outside the back door.  _ Fuck. _

Before he can cry out, pain blossoms in his temple and everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- ... aaaaaaand I'm sorry about this one.  
> \- Things I can promise: You will not have to wait a month for update. There will be plenty of hurt/comfort. There will be loads of Cas being a stone-cold badass. Just be patient, my beautifuls, I will MAKE THIS WORTH IT.  
> 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Hi, y'all. Please keep in mind the GDV warning for this chapter, as well as an extra warning for general creepiness, and the author's use of the word "whackadoodle."

Dean wakes up slowly, painfully. Unlike when he was in the hospital, it takes a while for him to get his bearings.

The first thing that sinks in is that he’s tied to a chair. Ropes at his wrists, waist, and ankles are so tight that he can’t feel his fingers or toes. He’s cold, and when he finally manages to open his eyes even a little, he sees that it’s mostly dark.

It looks like he’s in a basement, a shitty,  _ shitty _ basement. It’s nothing like his own, which is partially finished and relatively warmly decorated. The room he’s in is all concrete, with an ominous drain in the middle of the floor and a mysterious, musty smell in the air. The meager light is coming from a doorway on the far wall where the door has been left open a crack.

Dean’s head is pounding in time with his heartbeat, agony making his vision wonky each time the blood pumps through his veins. In fact, his whole body aches horribly enough that it takes him a few minutes of gritting his teeth and enduring before he remembers  _ why _ he’s tied up in a basement.

Or, rather,  _ who _ tied him up in a basement.

The door swings open, somehow managing to be remarkably menacing for an inanimate object. Silhouetted in the light is Alastair, tall and scrawny and also remarkably menacing. If Dean had any moisture in his mouth, he’s sure he’d be gulping in fear. As it is, he just stares.

“Well, well, well,” Alastair sneers. “Castiel’s pet human.”

The words have much less warmth than when Balthazar said them. Dean stays silent, breathing hard and watching warily as the vampire saunters forward to stand in front of him.

“I’m sure that he and his merry band of do-gooders have been filling your head with fluff and sunshine.” As he speaks, the vampire runs one grimy finger along Dean’s cheekbone, making him flinch. It makes Alastair smile evilly. “But not all of us are so foolish.”

The slight at Cas makes Dean glare up at Alastair, who is apparently even further delighted at this reaction.

_ “Oh, _ it’s like  _ that, _ is it?” An oily chuckle feels like it skitters and oozes along Dean’s skin. “I always knew that imbecile was in love with humanity, but I at least thought he wouldn’t stoop to  _ fucking _ it.”

Dean works to keep himself from reacting again to Alastair’s words. He thinks he does a decent job, since the vampire just keeps talking.  _ Monologuing, _ his inner Charlie corrects in disgust.  _ Classic bad guy fuck-up. _

He hopes his inner best friend is right.

“He just doesn’t  _ understand,” _ Alastair continues. “He’s always been weak. I didn’t realize it until  _ she _ pointed it out, but he’s always held me back. He’s forever stopping us, or cleaning up after our ‘mistakes.’” He snorts. “As if killing one of  _ you _ could ever be a ‘mistake.’”

Dean frowns and tries to think through the pain in his head.

At this point, he’s tied up, probably more than a little concussed, and his captor is a vampire who’s a lot of cards short of a full deck. His only hope of rescue is if the other vampires can find him and overpower Alastair.

His only hope of rescue is Cas.

Since all he can do is sit here, quite literally, he thinks the only way he can possibly be useful is if he remembers as much of Alastair’s patented Bad Guy Monologue as possible to pass it along. Cas already feels uneasy about Alastair’s state of mind. If he can commit some of this crap to memory, maybe Dean can shed some light on it.

“I suppose I can’t really  _ blame _ him, though. So many of our Elders, especially when we were newly reborn, believed that secrecy was best. That keeping ourselves hidden from… From  _ humanity,” _ the vampire sneers, “was the only way we could live in peace.”

Alastair turns to look at Dean again, and the profound insanity he sees there makes Dean break into a cold sweat.  He’s vaguely surprised that he’s even able to  _ get  _ more terrified, but here he is, surpassing expectations.

“Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? That we,  _ vampires, _ should hide from humans?  _ Humans, _ who are so incredibly fragile, so incredibly easy to kill, so…” Without warning, Alastair lunges forward. Before Dean can even muster up a good scream, the vampire’s nose is mashed against his throat, inhaling deeply. Revulsion has Dean trying to jerk away, but he’s well and truly tied down. He can’t go anywhere. A desperate, unhappy whine comes from the back of his throat and he’s helpless to smother it.

He feels Alastair smile against his skin. “So  _ delicious.” _ He backs off just a little, eyes glued to Dean’s rapid pulse. “I can see why he’s so taken with you. You  _ are _ something special, aren’t you, Dean?” His name on this vampire’s lips makes Dean’s stomach roll.

“I’m sure he wants to keep you forever,” Alastair says almost idly. “You’re rather lovely. It’s a shame that  _ he _ won’t be the one who gives you eternal life, isn’t it?”

It feels like the blood actually freezes in his veins when the words sink in. “Wha…  _ No!” _ he croaks, beginning to struggle in earnest again.

Alastair laughs and it makes Dean want to throw up again. “Oh, there he is! I wondered if you had any backbone at all.” Alastair grins and Dean struggles harder. The vampire leans close enough that Dean can feel the puffs of his fetid breath against his ear. “What do you think will disgust Castiel more? That you were turned by another, or the scars I intend to leave on your pretty neck?”

Cas has explained this. The magic that keeps vampires animated also keeps them unchanged from when they were killed, so they don’t get scars from any wounds they receive, just as their hair or nails don’t grow and they don’t age. The scars from the bite that “kills” them, though, they’re technically acquired before they change over, so they stay.

When changing someone, vampires tend to take great care with those wounds, making sure any scarring will be minimal, if it’s even present at all. There are some, however, who take great delight in  _ mauling _ their victims, leaving the new vampire permanently disfigured, with a scar that will never fade or heal. It’s extremely taboo, the mark of irresponsible vampires turning humans.

And as much as Alastair needs Dean’s consent to turn, there’s apparently no magical rule against using coercion to get that consent. If Alastair gets Dean to wishing he was dead, it would probably be easy to offer Dean a  _ different _ way out of the pain, scarred and outcast or no.

The thought of being like that, of being a vampire and forever having Alastair’s marks on him, make Dean even more frantic and scared for a beat.

However, as much work as he’s done with Cas and Charlie and Dr. Moseley about his toxic masculinity and his feelings and being able to interpret them, Dean’s fear quickly warps into a defiant sort of anger.

Sure, maybe he can’t defend himself. Maybe he’s so fucking terrified that his legs are numb and he can feel his arms and hands trembling even from where they’re tied down. Maybe his head hurts so bad he kinda wants to curl up in Cas’ arms and cry until he passes out cold, knowing his boyfriend will take care of him. And maybe anger is the absolute least rational response to this situation.

But seriously?  _ Fuck this guy. _

“Actually,” Dean rasps, his lips curving up into a smirk that’s so familiar he barely even has to think about it, “I think Cas is gonna be pretty damn amused that you had to tie up a human teenager to get the upper hand.”

The effect of his words is instantaneous. Alastair snarls and tangles his fingers in the hair at the back of Dean’s head so that he can wrench it back, exposing his throat. Dean spares a moment to be disappointed that he couldn’t get more crazed rambling for Cas, then another moment to realize that it probably won’t matter, since he can’t imagine that he’ll get out of this situation alive.

“I would derive great pleasure in killing you, you insignificant little  _ smear.” _ Alastair’s voice is wobbly with rage. Dean feels a fierce sense of satisfaction that he was able to get to the guy. “If I didn’t think it would cause Castiel more distress to have to see you every day, knowing you bear my scars, I would do it without a second thought.”

More fear pumps into Dean’s veins, turning into more adrenaline and anger. “I dunno,” he says as casually as he can when his neck is being held at this angle. “I think you’re scared of him.” Alastair growls and yanks his head back harder, but Dean’s on a roll. “In fact, I think you’re piss-your-pants  _ terrified _ that Cas is on his way here.”  _ Please be on your way here. _ “I think you’re scared that he’s about to bust through that door, come in here, and kick your  _ ass _ for taking me.” Dean manages to smile a little at the image his mind has provided.

“See, Alastair, I think you’re a grade-A whackadoodle. I think someone got to you, someone smarter or more manipulative, and they really got into that weird-shaped head of yours and scrambled your brains around. But you’re not stupid, oh no. I think you’re smart enough to know that Cas is gonna stop you. Cas is gonna put you down like the sick puppy you are, and I think you’re  _ just _ smart enough and  _ just _ with it enough to be fucking terrified about that.”

Alastair growls and crouches over him. Dean closes his eyes and prepares to be mauled to death.

_ Sorry, Sammy, Cas. _

He waits for a few long, long moments before he feels a sharp burning sensation just below his clavicle, and he opens his eyes in time to see Alastair go flying across the room like he’s been tossed by an invisible hand.

“What the fuck?” Dean breathes, unable to believe it as the vampire staggers to his feet, snarling and holding the back of his head where it made contact with the concrete of the basement floor. “What the fuck was that?”

Alastair’s eyes practically glow with hatred. “What sorcery is this?” he hisses. “What spell was cast on you?” He’s reverted to a kind of old-timey speech in his shock. Or from the hit to the head. “Who is protecting you,  _ boy?” _

Dean doesn’t have time to even begin thinking of a clever answer, either to stall or just to be a smart-ass, before Alastair is across the room again, standing in front of him.  _ Vampire speed, _ he thinks, shocked, just before he feels Alastair’s knuckles make contact with his cheek.

His head snaps to the side as pain explodes from the spot where he’s certain the skin has split. Spots dance in his vision, and he has to take a few deep breaths before he’s able to turn back to stare at the vampire.

Alastair, however, doesn’t look surprised at all. He’s grinning maniacally. “You see, whoever was  _ clever _ enough to put a protection spell on you must have forgotten to mention that they only protect against magical harm. There’s absolutely nothing stopping me from laying physical hands on you, however.”

All of the implications and interpretations of that sentence barely have time to sink in for Dean before he starts getting the absolute shit beat out of him.

And so begins the most physically painful time of Dean Winchester’s life.

Comparatively, of course, the loss of his parents will always remain the worst thing that’s ever happened to Dean. The way Sam was angry for so long is second, and the sixteen days he spent thinking Cas had left him is third. But this right now, this is inching up on the list with each agonizing hit.

Alastair concentrates on his face for a while, and if Dean’s ears weren’t ringing so badly from the blows, he might catch what the vampire is muttering. As it is, he only catches “pretty” and “want” and “face.” If he had the wherewithal to put together context clues right now, he’s sure he’d be able to reasonably put together what Alastair’s so pissed about. Instead, he goes with the flow (because there’s no other choice.)

The hits start coming down then, to his neck and shoulders, down to his chest. He feels something pull apart in his shoulder, making him cry out brokenly. He has the extremely dubious pleasure of listening while his own ribs give way under the punches, cracking and splintering in his body. He has a moment to briefly hope that Alastair will leave his dick alone, but it’s crushed along with his other thoughts when he feels a booted foot stomp onto his crotch, making his vision white out completely.

The blows stop for a while, and Dean accepts the reprieve without question. He’s dimly aware that he’s crying, but his eyes are mostly swollen shut, and his face is one giant source of pain, much like the rest of his upper body. If he is, in fact, crying, he can barely feel it, so he just lets it happen.

When the blows don’t return, Dean manages to crack the one eye that’s able to open enough to see out of open. Alastair is still directly in front of him, but he’s turned around, head cocked as if he’s listening for something. Dean is sure that if each part of his body wasn’t throbbing to a different rhythm in agony, he would give a fuck what was going on.

As it is, when Alastair tenses, Dean can’t care. He watches dully as Alastair begins forward, but is stopped by the door to the basement being blown off its hinges. In the wreckage stands Cas, dressed again in a plain t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. The only remarkable difference is the glittering fury in those lovely blue eyes and the  _ huge fucking sword in his hand. _

Dean promises himself that as soon as he’s capable, he will geek out to the fullest extent.

For now, both his hearing and his vision fade in and out, but he catches snippets of the action. Cas is shouting in another language, probably Russian, and Alastair is responding in the same. Cas comes into the room, and Dean sees Balthazar and Gabe come in next. Now Cas is charging Alastair, sword held high. There’s a fight, of which Dean only sees flashes before his head lolls to the side and grey swamps his vision completely.

“Hang on, kiddo.” It takes him a moment to recognize the voice in his ear as Gabe’s. “We gotcha. You’re gonna be all right.”

Dean succumbs to the darkness with gratitude.

* * *

Dean spends four days in the hospital, during two of which he’s completely unconscious. Once he wakes up, he complains long and hard enough that Gabe agrees to discharge him on the condition that Cas goes with him and watches him like a hawk.

It’s a compromise that Dean’s more than okay with.

The night Cas takes him home (again), he tells Cas all that he remembers, which is basically everything up until Alastair started hitting him. Cas listens raptly. He frowns in confusion when Dean gets to the part about Alastair’s inability to bite him before understanding and awe clear his features.

“The amulet Sam gave you,” he says reverently, his eyes dropping down to the lump beneath Dean’s shirt. “It’s meant to protect the wearer from evil intent. I knew that, I just didn’t realize it would be quite so… Literal.” Cas’ eyes fall closed.

Frowning, Dean leans forward. “Hey, are you okay?”

Cas’ blue eyes are just a little misty when they open again. “I will be forever grateful that you were protected until I got to you. I am…” Cas takes an unsteady breath, and his next words carry his accent. “Dean, I am  _ so _ sorry.”

Another frown. “Sorry? For what? For saving my ass?”

“I didn’t…” Cas swallows hard. “Dean, dearheart, I was too late.”

“... Maybe we have different definitions of ‘too late.’”

_ “Dean,” _ Cas says severely, and Dean manages to turn off the jackass in him long enough to really  _ see _ the pain in his lover’s eyes. It sobers him.

“Dean, if you hadn’t been wearing the amulet, or if you hadn’t gone home for Christmas, if Sam had gotten you a different gift…” Another hard swallow. “You could have  _ died. _ Or been turned. Or-”

“Cas.” Dean finally interrupts. They’re sitting side-by-side on the living room couch. Dean inches painfully closer until he’s wrapped in cold, trembling arms. “Come on, babe,” he murmurs into Cas’ shoulder, hugging him as fiercely as he can considering the amount of pain he’s in. He notices how gentle Cas is, too, even in his duress. It makes an emotion so huge and important he can’t stand to acknowledge it swell in his heart. He puts that away for further inspection and refocuses.

“Cas, you can’t do that to yourself. A million things could have gone wrong. What if you hadn’t found me? What if he’d killed me in my sleep? Or other side of things, what if I’d been able to get away from him? Wake up before he came back to the basement, or while he was tying me up? What if my dumb ass hadn’t stepped out of the house in the first place? What if… I mean, what if you hadn’t stopped by that night, that first night? What if he’d been able to just stroll in here, or any house on the block, and kill any time he wanted?”

Cas pulls back, so Dean meets his eyes, hoping Cas can see how sincere he is. “My point is that dwelling on shit that didn’t happen, or shit that could have gone differently, that’ll just drive you crazy, babe.” He cups Cas’ face in one hand, demanding his full attention.  _ “You saved me. _ I was a hop, skip, and a few seconds away from passing out cold, and who knows what other damage that crazy bastard would have done.”

Said damage is… A lot. He knows one of his eyes is almost completely swollen shut, even still, and both are black and bloodshot. His face is a swollen, throbbing mask of bruises and cuts. He didn’t break any teeth, thank  _ God, _ but the insides of his cheeks are raw and bloody. He’s got broken ribs on both sides, as well as a cracked vertebra. HIs collarbone is fractured in two places, he’s got a couple of broken fingers, and his left arm is in a sling.

(His dick and balls are also severely bruised, which might be the injuries he’s most pissed off about.)

He’s looked better, but he could look a lot deader, too.

“Cas, listen, I  _ get _ feeling like you didn’t do enough, or if you’d done something differently, things would have turned out better.” The doubts and self-recrimination he experienced in the months after his parents died run through his head  _ (should have called should have been home should have been smarter faster better), _ but he’s mostly (sort of) gotten over those, so he pushes on.

_ “You saved me. _ I’ll say it as much as I gotta to get it to sink in.  _ You saved me. _ You saved my fucking  _ life, _ and I’m not gonna let some shitty, post-fight doubts let you forget that you  _ beheaded _ the motherfucker who hurt me.” He gives the silent, surprised vampire the stink eye. “You got me, Cas? I won’t let that happen.”

Cas blinks for a moment, then leans forward to gently rest his forehead against Dean’s with a sort of awed smile. “It sounds like Dr. Moseley has really been helping.”

Dean smiles a little back and lets his eyes fall closed as he leans against Cas. “Yeah, she has.”

“I will… I will try, dearheart, not to let myself forget that you are here.”

“Because of you. I’m here because of you.”

“... Because of me,” Cas says, hesitant and unsure.

Dean grins, eyes still closed. His whole body is starting to throb with pain again, and he’s fucking  _ starving, _ and he’s exhausted, all at the same time. This week has been fucking hell, and he knows that once he’s recovered, he has to go right back to school and therapy and trying to figure out his life again.

But at least Cas is here.

“Damn right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Badass Cas with a sword defending his love. *heart eyes* *swoon*


	11. Epilogue - Two Years Later

Castiel has lived for a very, very long time. In that time, he has done a  _ great _ many things. He’s fought in every famous war, and some wars that were less well-known but no less significant. He’s courted royalty, rubbing elbows with nobles of any number of courts. He’s also frozen with peasants, gone hungry with the poor. Castiel has committed any number of depraved acts with any number of depraved beings.

But here, now, watching himself slowly sink into Dean as the boy absolutely falls apart beneath him, he can’t think of anything more wicked than the way this feels at this moment.

“Cas,” Dean is babbling. “Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking big, fuck, love your cock. Holy shit, Cas, holy fuck-”

Castiel has hardly ever been able to find it in himself to deny Dean, so he finally puts his hands on those slim, lovely hips and thrusts into him hard, bottoming out and moaning at the tight, wet heat. Dean cries out and drops down to press his forehead to his arms, arching his back for Castiel.

“So good for me, dearheart,” Castiel murmurs as he pulls out and thrusts in again, using his supernatural strength to hold Dean in place when he would rock back onto him. “Always so lovely, just incredible.”

_ “Cas.” _ Dean’s gasping whine is bordering on desperate, so Castiel once again gives in and starts to fuck Dean for all he’s worth.

There’s always a measure of control required when they’re in bed, but two years later, it’s second nature to make sure that he doesn’t permanently hurt Dean, but that he  _ does _ fuck him hard enough for him to feel it the next day the way Dean likes. The sound of Dean’s breathy moans and the way his body pulls Cas in and seems to try to keep him in as he withdraws has his own orgasm building in his gut, buzzing beneath his skin. He bends to press his chest to Dean’s hot back  _ (he’s always so hot, so white hot compared to me) _ and wraps an arm around him. He presses his lips to Dean’s ear.

“So lovely,” he rasps. “Are you going to come for me, Dean?”

_ “Cas!” _

He runs his hand down Dean’s flat belly so he can wrap his fingers around his cock. “Can you feel it, Dean?”

_ “Ca-as,” _ Dean whines.

“Tell me, dearheart. Can you feel it? I can. You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”

Dean tilts his head, baring his neck. Despite the desperate way his body is moving, Cas can see the smirk has on his face.  _ Impudence, _ he thinks, though his attention is immediately glued to the fluttering pulse in his boyfriend’s neck. In this state of heightened awareness and instinct, he’s helpless to do anything else.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean pants, outright grinning now. “Wanna come with you inside me.”

And even though his cock is as deep as it can go, Cas knows exactly what Dean means, so he doesn’t bother to smother his growl when he turns his head and sinks his teeth into the vein in Dean’s neck.

The earthy, lovely taste of  _ Dean _ explodes on his tongue, making his vision go hazy and his growl deeper as he has to fight the urge to bite down harder. Instead, he closes his eyes to savor Dean’s blood filling his mouth and Dean’s ass clenching around his cock.

He can  _ taste _ the hormones in Dean’s blood change, telling him that Dean is coming as surely as the pulsing of his cock in Castiel’s hand and the warmth of his release spilling over his fingers. Combined with the way his ass clamps down on Castiel’s aching cock, he finds that he barely has the presence of mind to withdraw his fangs so he doesn’t mutilate Dean before his orgasm hits him like a freight train. He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to the back of Dean’s neck as waves of ecstasy wash over him.

After what seems like an age, but is probably only a few minutes, Castiel tips them over. He makes sure to keep Dean out of the wet spot and holds him close, reveling in the blazing heat of the beautiful human in his arms. He also makes sure that he’s still inside Dean. Because he has no blood of his own, no real pulse, his erection stays hard longer after orgasm than a human’s, and Dean likes the feeling of having Castiel’s come plugged up in him.

_ Almost _ as much as Castiel himself likes it.

Dean cuddles back into him, covering Castiel’s arms with his. He hums in contentment, and Castiel feels the vibrations of it in his own chest. He manages to wrangle one of his arms away so he can get a wet wipe out of the nightstand table to clean Dean gently. He’ll take care of himself as soon as he’s gone down enough to slip out of Dean without causing him discomfort.

He presses gentle kisses to Dean’s strong shoulders, overcome with affection.

“Sap,” Dean says sleepily, a smile obvious in his voice.

“Always for you, dearheart.”

“Ugh,” Dean complains, but he presses closer to Castiel as he drifts off.

Castiel waits until he is absolutely certain that Dean is deeply asleep before he speaks

He whispers roughly into the dark, the only time he feels comfortable speaking the words out loud to his lover, because although Dean has come a very long way in two years, he’s still “allergic to chick flick moments,” whatever that means.

“In all the time I’ve been alive, I’ve never loved anything as wholly as I love you, Dean Henry Winchester. I will spend the rest of our lives together proving it to you, and shall be glad of the task every day.”

He says the words to Dean’s sleeping form every night, and holds his beloved until he wakes, feeling every inch the giddy, lovesick fool he is.

* * *

“I’m gonna miss mornings,” Dean muses over coffee the next morning. “When I turn, I mean.”

In the last two years, Dean’s body has filled out a bit. He’s still tall and slim, but Castiel can tell that his shoulders and chest will become broader, more muscular, in the years to come. He has a few scars from Alastair’s attack, one above his eyebrow and a long one on his left side, but his skin is otherwise unblemished. He’s perfect, scars and all.

“We still wake in the mornings,” Castiel answers. “We just don’t go out into the sunrise.”

Seemingly in response to the words, Dean shifts on his feet until the sunlight drapes itself over his golden torso through the window above the kitchen sink. “I know,” he says lightly. “I’ll just miss the warmth is all.”

“We’ll keep the heat on,” Castiel says with a smile.

Dean chuckles, and Castiel is entranced, as always.

“Smartass,” the human says into his coffee, eyes sparkling over his mug.

“You’re one to talk.”

Dean rolls his eyes and turns back to the stove where he has French toast frying in a pan. “What’s on the docket for today?”

_ Back to business. _ “Gabriel called yesterday from Rome. He’s confident that he’s found a lead to the cult Alastair must have belonged to.”

“The ones calling themselves ‘Lightbringers,’ right?”

“Indeed.” Castiel fights to keep his mood even instead of letting it darken with irritation.

“Hey.” Dean’s gentle voice has him looking up to meet warm green eyes  _ (everything about him is warm and soft and lovely). _

“We’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll get to the bottom of this, babe.”

The pet names warms him, as always, and has the desired effect of banishing his dark thoughts.

“Besides,” Dean says brightly  _ (always so bright), _ “I’ll be a fellow creature of the night soonish, and I’ll be able to actually  _ do something.” _

Castiel frowns. “You’ve provided a great deal of assistance.”

Dean rolls his eyes as he slides the piece of toast onto a plate. “Yeah, yeah, I’m a real help during my two hours of free time a week. Not to mention no one will let me actually  _ investigate _ anything, yet.”

It’s true that Dean’s schooling and job still take up a majority of his time, but he’s about to start his last year for his bachelor’s degree. Castiel is incredibly proud of him, enamored with how viciously smart Dean is, despite his own insistence to the contrary. Dean, however, just resents how much actual  _ time _ school takes him.

It’s also true that Castiel is wildly uncomfortable with the idea of Dean investigating or interviewing anyone in regards to Morningstar while he’s still human. If Castiel could dream at all, he’s certain he would still be plagued with nightmares about not getting to Dean in time, or getting to him just to find him already dying, with no option left to him but to get Dean to let him turn him. Until Dean is more than human, Castiel has put his foot down, which Dean has ungraciously accepted.

Dean  _ does _ want to turn, tough. He wants to wait until he “looks less like a Ken doll, dude.” Castiel doesn’t really know what that means, because he thinks Dean is the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, but it’s Dean’s decision, not his own, so he’ll wait.

If vampirism was more like it was in popular culture, he might be uncomfortable with the idea. But since a sire has no real power over newly turned vampires, except for maybe sentimentality, he’ll have no actual power or supernatural influence over Dean. Dean will make the decision to turn on his own  _ (not like me wasn’t a choice wasn’t myself wasn’t my choice), _ and he’ll make every decision after that on his own, as well. So maybe he would argue against it if circumstances were different, but as it is, he’s eager for Dean to be a bit less fragile.

“We have time,” Castiel says simply. “The Lightbringers aren’t going anywhere.”

Dean snorts as he pours syrup over his breakfast. “Yeah, we’re not that lucky.”

Yes, Castiel is very worried about the things Alastair said, both to himself and to Dean. What little they’ve been able to discover about Lightbringers, a fanatic cult with little regard for humanity, has alarmed him greatly, and he’s gone to several Elders to find more information and to gather strength. Balthazar and Gabriel are travelling the globe to investigate. It’s a serious problem.

But for now, just for now, watching Dean hum happily as he shoves a square of French toast in his mouth, wearing a pair of briefs Castiel is fairly certain were his own at one point, he is at peace.

* * *

They do not have any of that “welcome mat” nonsense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Here we are, at the end of _Come On In._ I can't tell you guys enough how crazy it was to watch this story just explode in popularity. It kills me. There are no words to thank you enough. I love you guys.
> 
> \- "But wait," I hear you say. "What's with these Lightbringer dudes? Who is the 'she' Alastair so ominously mentioned? What's with Cas' crazy inner dialogue? WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" Well, fret not! I'm planning a sequel! I'm gonna take a couple of weeks away from this universe, but I promise there will be at LEAST a third part of the _By Invitation Only_ series. I hope you love it as much as you love _Come On In,_ and you can subscribe to either me or the series itself to be updated once I get the first chapter posted!
> 
> \- As always, thank you so much. I wouldn't be doing this without you crazy bastards. *heart eyes at you guys*


End file.
